Star Fox: Siren Song
by Sheppard SD
Summary: It's been a long thirty years since the First Contact engagement with humanity. Since then, peaceful negotiations have slowly come to fruition. Now—for the most part—the Lylat system and its newest ally have regained a comfortable unity. Even so, saying that after what occurred years prior may be a stretch. After all, incidents like that aren't easily forgotten…
1. High Value Suspect

**— Chapter 1 —**  
\- Prologue -  
 _"High Value Suspect"_

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[V]

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"You'll need to put on a coat, Secretary. It's quite cold out."

She let out an inconvenienced sigh. "Very well."

The aged arctic wolf flipped through a few jackets hanging in her closet before pulling out a heavy woolen trench coat. The white matched with the grid-like black and blue lines paired well with her pelt of fur and eyes. As she buried herself into the coat and fastened the buttons, another armed soldier appeared in the doorway.

"Secretary Dixie; the Terran shuttle has arrived."

"I wish not to keep them waiting," Dixie replied, scooping up a bag of her belongings before exiting her office. The two canine soldiers escorted her through intersecting hallways until they reached the spacious lobby area. Two more guards met the group there. Each one had a protective ballistic vest that matched the color of their navy blue pixelated uniforms, a heavy carbine blaster, and a helmet with their ears poking out of the top. Dixie waited at the door to the outside so that she could slip her ears through a ushanka hat that matched her coat. Once she was geared up, she nodded, prompting her escorts to lead her outside.

Light snow flurries cascaded from the overcast sky and glazed over the sidewalks and streets. Overhead, dissimilar skyscrapers pierced the clouds and created a metaphorical wall. The horizon could not be spotted at all from where they were. Their surroundings were just as bleak and gray as the sky, which only increased the cold feeling Dixie had as soon as she stepped outside of artificial heat.

Her guards led her away from the Cornerian Embassy Building and towards a black armored SUV sitting idle at the curb. On either end sat a similar police cruiser, lights rapidly flashing red and blue. Without any time to admire the cute, light snowfall, Dixie hastily slid into the back seat of the SUV, shutting the door behind her.

As she settled herself down, she was met with a warm smile by a clean-shaven elderly gentleman with nearly white hair wearing a very tidy suit. He waited for his lupine guest to get comfortable before speaking to her.

"Cold day today, eh?"

"It is indeed," she replied, her dignified and distinguished voice calm and welcoming. "I had to break out my heavy coat just to walk out of the building."

"Winter will do that to anyone here," he chuckled as the SUV and surrounding squadron cars merged onto downtown city streets. "Regardless, I'm very grateful that you could meet with myself and the rest of the board today. Since we have time, I'd like to run down a few things the board wish to ask during this meeting, if you don't mind."

"Of course," Dixie answered. "Please continue."

The gentleman pulled out a laptop from his briefcase and opened it up. There, he entered his password under his login name "Trent Oreskovich." As he waited for his computer to load, he said, "Most everyone associated with Lylatian relations believe our policies are outdated, and I have to agree. We enacted these policies and regulations four years ago, and since then, our relations have changed for the better."

Dixie smiled. "I agree. I'm very glad that you and the board have brought this to my attention."

"Indeed," Trent nodded his head. "We wish to renegotiate many of our interstellar trade agreements to be less restricting. Our initial agreements were tentative in nature, and—at the time—it was for good reason. Now that our government officials have become more accepting of these developments, they wish to see our relationships expand."

"This is wonderful," Dixie remarked. "This will surely strengthen our market, and yours as well. Is this all your board has proposed?"

"Not in the slightest," Trent promptly answered, glancing down at the notes on his computer screen. "We wish to expand our embassy reach to different parts of the system, at your discretion of course. We are willing to let your government expand here as well, and we will attempt to contact our allied countries to see if your reach can be expanded more."

"I believe I can work with this," the arctic wolf mulled. "Please continue."

He nodded. "We wish to expand some educational programs, meaning that we want to exchange more students to prove that relations between our races can exist outside of government. We want to provide more expansive tours, programs, and residences to Lylatians eager to explore our world, but we can only do this if you do the same to your programs on Corneria. We really want these new deals to be as even as possible."

"I understand completely," Dixie replied. "So far, I'm in favor of all of these ideas. I'd be willing to sign these all into action, but the decision of Corneria isn't up to me. I must speak with the Cornerian Parliament and propose these ideas myself."

"We will explain more once we get to the meeting," Trent reminded. "We don't want to scam you, obviously, so our board will explain these propositions in full."

"I'd appreciate that very much," Dixie said calmly, taking a glance out of her window.

Coming out of the valley of skyscrapers, the SUV slowly crawled along the street overlooked by a neon plaza. Advertisements bombarded the eyes with relentless, shameless intention, while thousands of civilians and tourists swarmed the sidewalks lining the offset intersecting streets. The vibrantly colored high life and bustling activity brought a smile to Secretary Dixie's face.

Everything looked as it should. Families with their kids were enjoying a city day in the light snow. Couples—young and old—stuck together to keep warm. Tourists with cameras snuck in pictures wherever they could, making sure to incorporate the snowflakes dusting the ground. It all looked so peaceful. So comforting. These people seemed to love city life.

It took a few minutes, but their escort finally eased through the gridlock of cabs, busses, and cars vying to slip through the endless array of stoplights just as they were. Soon after, the neon explosion disappeared around the reentrance of the skyscraper valley. Still, the bustling crowds of people leaked out of that main plaza and fed off in all directions, and their road was no exception. Hundreds found the shops and attractions down the street interesting enough to venture down to, creating bidirectional human traffic like the vehicular traffic right beside them.

Some stopped to gawk at the flashing lights, pointing and talking above the roar of tires against asphalt. Some tried to sneak a peek through the window to see who the squadron cars were guarding, but the tinted windows prevented those from seeing the Cornerian in the back seat. Dixie wanted to roll the window down just to wave and say hi to the curious bystanders, but decided against in when she acknowledged her situation and circumstances. Still, making a few human kids' day would break the monotony of weekly meetings and perpetual protection. Maybe next week…

"The kids love hearing about your kind," Trent broke the silence. Dixie turned to face him.

"I can see," she replied, sneaking another glance out the window. "They are curious."

"Most everyone is," he added. "It's not often one race comes into contact with something completely different, let alone establishing relations with them. It's eye opening. We've put years and years of research into setting out radio waves, researching other systems and galaxies, and just trying to find something. We didn't think we'd ever be successful… How we were wrong…"

"We believed the same," Dixie replied. "It's fascinating, the similarities between us. This could be worth studying. The minds…"

"This could be arranged," Trent grinned.

Dixie giggled. "Maybe later. These things don't have to be rushed. We will be around for many more years. The journey is what matters more."

"You have a point," Trent nodded.

"The children are very adorable to watch," Dixie giggled again, turning to look out her window again. She barely had time to process what she was looking at before she felt her center of gravity shift violently.

As their SUV slowly continued down the downtown streets, a snowplow clearing a mess of frozen snow out of an adjacent street barreled through the intersection, spearing the truck with enough force to split a normal car in half. The sharp blade of the plow pierced the truck, forcing it onto its side as the plow lost next to no momentum. The police car pursuing the SUV had no time to react and slammed into the side of the plow as it passed by.

Sparks flew as the plow rammed the impaled SUV into the corner building, smashing through windows and concrete walls. The plow finally came to a stop when its tires became stuck in the debris that ensured. As soon as it did, the driver and passenger climbed out and stood in the dust and blowing snow. Both wore heavy insulating jackets and face-obscuring ski-masks, and were armed with assault-class rifles. They wasted no time in opening fire on passing civilians and officers alike; it didn't matter who it was so long as they could see them.

A car that had been following the snowplow stopped in the middle of the intersection and unloaded four more armed men. As those people started firing just as the drivers of the snowplow did, the passenger in the snowplow stopped and turned towards the overturned SUV. He walked around so that he was facing the cracked windshield, then took aim and unloaded. He raked the windshield and engine compartment of the SUV with an entire clip of bullets until he saw sprays of crimson escape the shattered windows.

Content, he tossed his empty magazine into the dyed snow, reloaded, and then joined his team in strafing the busy downtown streets. Windows of surrounding businesses and buildings were shattered as the barrage of bullets wreaked havoc on the busy intersection. Cars were destroyed, bystanders were gunned down in cold blood, and the screams of petrified civilians running to escape the onslaught of death merged with the rapid explosions of gunfire coursing through the gridlocked streets. One assailant tossed a canister into the broken window of a corner store that immediately burst into a wave of flames as soon as it hit the floor.

The officers in the car in front of the SUV were targeted by two of the gunmen, completely destroying their cruiser in the process. Another incendiary was thrown at the car, causing it to erupt in a fireball. The gunmen broke off and extended the radius of their carnage by a few extra feet, shattering windows and pummeling cars in their wake.

After a few extra moments of countless spent bullets, the team swiftly crammed into the car and sped off without another shot fired.

Just like that, they disappeared.


	2. Oh Wonder

**A/N: It's been a while since I've written one of these. Hello everyone! I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season. I'm back with another installment of Siren Song, and I'm very glad that the reception of it has been very strong so far. I've been putting in a lot of work into this project to make sure that it doesn't end up as a dud like the last one. :/**

 **I encourage you all to leave your feedback for me to look at, because those few words can, and very much will shape how the story goes. I'm not asking for a simple sentence of "good chapter" or "I love this story" because (while I appreciate the kind comments) I've gotten enough of those to last me a lifetime. I really urge genuine, original feedback; whether it be glowing praise or tough, critical criticism. You can feel free to leave your simple one sentence encouragement reviews as much as you want, but don't count on me giving you a reply if you do so.**

 **...yes, I will try to reply to every single person that leaves their thoughts in a review. You put the time and effort into doing so, so allow me to put forth the time and effort to reply. :)**

 **I've rambled enough. I hope you all enjoy.**

 **(Disclaimer: You'll be meeting a character in this chapter that has "vulgarity" as his middle name. If this kind of content is uncomfortable for you, I'd suggest finding a different story)**

 **-Sheppard**

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 **— Chapter 2 —**  
 _"Oh Wonder"_

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[V]

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The seasons were definitely changing.

When the work week began, it was comfortable enough outside in just a light jacket and be perfectly fine. The wind was the only thing that needed to be taken into consideration day in and day out. But the once unobstructed blue sky started to become tarnished with incoming white, fluffy clouds as the week progressed. With the sun covered, cooler temperatures prevailed. Now at the end of the work week, a line of darker clouds was beginning to encroach on the bustling city. The wind began to pick up much more than before. A winter storm was slowly taking over.

Just down the street of the city's Embassy Building, a large gathering was taking place. Now overrun by a trove of different persons, the city park became the home of a rally. Well, more of a protest in actuality, according to one Nathan O'Donnell, who was within earshot of the rally at his post outside the Embassy. As the sounds of commotion intensified, he thought it would be better to reroute his post closer to the park to keep an eye out.

"Base, this is O'Donnell one," he radioed in. "The gathering at Millennium Park is getting louder and attracting more people. Requesting permission to reroute to 73-95 to oversee activity."

"O'Donnell one, request granted," the base line replied after a few seconds of deliberation. "Sending McCloud two and Brackis with you for safety."

"Understood," he stated, unconsciously shifting his carbine. Shifting his feet, he waited for his fellow teammates to meet up with him.

It didn't take long for two armed candids to exit the building and walk up to him. The first was Marcus, a longtime family friend and a rather young addition to his team at just seventeen, but an invaluable one nonetheless with his indispensable telepathic abilities. His cerulean blue fur was quite a contrast to the red urban camo pattern of their similar uniforms, but it wasn't like he stood out enough anyway, being a Cornerian in a world of humans.

The lean and lanky collie that walked out with him was Karrin Brackis, an experienced veteran of the CDF. He trumped Nathan by three ranks, but didn't deny his most decorated teammate of his freedoms nor ignore his abilities. He stood an even six feet tall, which was indeed shorter than Nathan, but the latter soldier did not want to anger the collie for fear of losing a limb or two.

Without a word, the trio formed up and started walking down to their designated area less than a city block away. No surprise to anyone, their walk was plagued with dirty looks and hostilities from the many wandering the sidewalks. Although Nathan met the disapproving glares with nary a passing glance, he still noticed that Marcus started feeling uncomfortable. As they stopped at the four-way intersection and waited to pass the four lanes of traffic, the blue vulpine's hold on his SMG tightened, and his ears began to erratically twitch and tilt.

Nathan let his gun dangle from his neck as he set a heavy hand on Marcus' shoulder. He looked, saw Nathan's unfazed, confident expression, then tentatively let out a breath from his nose and tried to calm himself down.

"What are they thinking?" the wolf asked, his voice calm, firm, and confident.

Marcus shifted his black knit hat and gently pressed at his forehead, looking like he was in pain. After a few seconds, he shook his head and pulled the hat down further.

"They're thinking things that would get me grounded back home," Marcus answered, his Cerinian accent just as strong as his mother's.

Nathan smirked. "Just relax." His expression hardened back up as he took another look at his surroundings. While he did so, he noticed a little girl staring in awe at the three of them. He nudged Marcus, then nodded his head at the little girl. The blue vulpine spun his gun around and out of view, then crouched down to see the girl.

The girl's mother immediately grabbed at her daughter's heavy coat. Marcus still held out his hand. "Hey, it's okay," he said, smiling as invitingly as he could. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You can talk," the little girl said, completely awestruck.

"Sure I can," Marcus chuckled. "What's your name, sweetie?"

The girl looked up at her mother as if to ask permission. While still skeptical and definitely hesitant, the mother replied, "Her name is Angie."

"Nice to meet you," Marcus grinned happily. "I'm Marcus."

"Are you a mean fox?" the little girl asked unabashedly.

"Oh, no, I'd never be mean," he replied with a laugh. "I'm a friend. We all are."

The lights for the crosswalks lit up, so Karrin and his team started to cross over. Marcus waved goodbye to the little girl, then reformed with his teammates, adjusting his weapon as he rushed up to them.

"That was really nice, what you did," Karrin spoke up, voice thick and happy as always. "A lot of people were watching. Thanks for being so kind to that little girl."

"She was afraid," Marcus commented, his ears flattening. "Both her and her mother. I wanted to make them feel better about us."

"And it worked," Karrin grinned. "I could tell. Listen, I'll let you and some of the others wander around the city for a while, talking to people and all that, but only after this, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

The trio of Cornerians stopped at the base of the stairs leading up to the large plaza. Those attracted by the gathering went past the plaza and filed into the giant open-air pavilion attached to the plaza. Overlooking the giant field were intersecting metal bars that held cameras, lighting fixtures, and speakers, but only the latter was active. There had to have been just shy of a thousand people gathered in the field, all attentive to what the speaker on the stage of the pavilion was saying.

"Base, O'Donnell one," Nathan spoke again. "Gathering is at Pritzker Pavilion; requesting permission to investigate activity."

"Negative, O'Donnell," the base operator replied. "Local authorities are in total control of public gathering places. Supplemental Cornerian security is not needed."

Nathan sighed. "Ten-four."

"Doesn't mean we can't watch," Karrin said with a nudge to both of his officers. "Follow me."

They managed to find their way towards the stage, bypassing the civilians who had to file into the grassy area now that the seats up front were full. They explained to a few of the local police officers guarding the sidelines that they were only there to watch, to which the officers allowed after deliberation. As more and more people came into view, Nathan noticed something peculiar.

Underneath the artistically shaped metal pieces overtop the stage area stood a lone figure and his microphone. The man was average sized, noticeably pale, and looked to be just like any of the civilians at his feet. He wore a black hoodie with the hood pulled over his short and slicked back hair, and thick worker's jeans tucked into a pair of heavy boots.

"You see, I could ramble on and on and on about this all day if the management here would let me," the man said with a chuckle, scratching at his stubbly beard as he paced his open stage. "I do have a time limit here, yes… I know, I'm just as disappointed as you are. Oh well: rules are rules. …Yea, kinda ironic, that I'm supposed to follow rules, just as the human I am. Death and taxes, right? Anyway, rules… Ya know, sometimes I wonder if any of these guys follow their own rules."

"This guy…" Karrin muttered.

"Who is he?" Marcus asked with worry in his voice.

"His name is Wade Driscoll," the collie answered. "He's a political journalist and speaker. Tends to lean more towards propaganda than actual journalism."

Wade cleared his throat. "Well, I'll tell ya what… I've got…" he glanced at his watch. "I've got time to rant a bit. I want to give you guys a lecture, alright? A good, old fashioned lecture like you guys—er, well, some of you guys—remember in college. Only this time there's no exam. Yea, yea, you can thank me now."

He let out a hearty laugh as he stuffed the microphone in the fold of his arm, using his other hand to pull out a small tablet screen. He shuffled the microphone to be able to speak into it while he messed with the device. Before speaking, he let out a low groan. "Now, you see here… You guys may not know this, as the media tends to never bring these topics to light—that's another topic entirely that I won't touch up on… but there is a lot of hypocrisy running rampant in the Cornerian culture just over the past couple of years. I'll isolate it to just their era of contacting humanity… which, you guys will be happy to know that I am not cutting out anything important in doing this. I won't have to go past this dating table to find apparent filth."

Scrolling through notes on his tablet, Wade continued, "Okay. Let's rewind the clock. January fourth, twenty-thirty-one. Thirty four, almost thirty five years ago. The National Aeronautics and Space Administration—ya know, when NASA was still relevant—made their first discovery of an unidentified satellite orbiting Earth. Yes, I'll answer the big question: it was a Cornerian observation satellite. Sure, this is acceptable and all; they're curious just as we are. But, in wake of a lot of foreign scares, we made the decision to destroy it. That's our bad. Scientists working have gone on record saying it was an impulsive mistake to destroy that first satellite. We fucked up here, okay? No need to get on our asses about it, heh."

Wade began to pace. "So the Cornerians respond with filling our orbital space with over fifteen satellites in four years after that. Some were observational, I'll give them that. Some, as it turns out, were… what they called "viral" satellites… meaning that those satellites had the capabilities to infiltrate our networks, sap away any sort of data they wanted, and if they so desired, could terminate our entire network grid with a single line of code. …What the fuck? That's a pretty big fucking deal, considering we went to war with half of the Middle East for this exact same thing many years ago."

Nathan's eyes slowly widened. He nudged Karrin, saying, "That's secure information. How does he know this?"

"I don't know," growled Karrin, grabbing at the radio strapped to his arm.

"But before, we didn't know that," Wade added. "They looked to be all the same. But still… if it was a non-allied country doing this to us, they'd be getting swarmed with our finest soldiers. So, what I would like to know is… how these mutts got off the hook for doing the same thing? Hypocrisy at its finest. We're letting them into our country for fuck's sake! No screening, no nothing; and we're supposed to be okay with this. Sure. Oh, so I'm just gonna allow this massive fuckin'… dog thing into my workplace. Sounds like a good idea. If you don't think so too, then I guess you're just being a discriminatory asshole. Ya fuckin' stink. I guess. I don't know."

"Listen," he took a slight pause, then let out another low groan. "The Cornerians have embassy buildings in New York, here in Chicago, and even in Washington DC. The first two are our most populated cities, and the third is arguably the most important place in our country. I don't need an entire twenty page document explaining this. What's next? Are they gonna ship them to the west coast? Los Angeles? Seattle? Are they gonna set up shop in Miami? Dallas? Are they gonna let them go across the border into Toronto or Vancouver? Better yet, are they gonna ship them overseas into Paris, London, Berlin, or Vienna? Here, I have an idea. Let's ship the fuckers everywhere. Hong Kong. Stockholm. Tokyo. Moscow. Jerusalem. Sao Paulo. Fuckin'… I don't know, but let's put them all over the planet so that you can't go five minutes without seeing one."

"I've had enough," Nathan growled. He attempted to step forward, but stopped when Wade crossed over and noticed the trio of Cornerians. Surprisingly, his face lit up into a smile.

"Speak of the devil himself," he chuckled weakly, standing on the edge of his stage to see them. "My ranting got them curious. Here, let's… let's not get pissed off at them yet, okay? They just got here. Do… do one of you mind stepping up here for a little? I'd like to speak with one of you, as a journalist such as myself."

Nathan nudged Marcus. "Go up there to shut him up about this. I'll watch your back."

Tentatively, Marcus obliged and stepped towards the stage. Wade clapped, prompting his crowd to do the same. "Ah, yes, thank you. Oh… oh wow, take a look at this one, everyone. Blue as can be, eh? I've never seen one like this."

As the Cerinian stepped more into view, Wade held out his hand for Marcus to shake, which he did. "Your name, officer?"

"Marcus."

"Officer Marcus," echoed Wade. "Pleasure to have you up here. Now, don't be alarmed, okay? I'm just gonna have you stand up here, and I'll talk with ya in just a moment. I've got something to get off my chest first."

The man turned to face the crowd, then walked forward until his feet touched the edge of the stage. "I feel like I need to preface what I say here with a bit of a story. One of my best friends in the entire galaxy, Lieutenant Joel McClellan of the United States Marine Corps, is currently deployed at Corneria City for reasons just the same as Officer Marcus McCloud up here. They're housing some of us just as we are of them, as fair trade and such."

"How did he know Marcus' name?" Nathan blurted out.

"As of right now," Wade looked at his tablet screen. "Joel has been there for almost five… five years now. We talk often, we tell our stories, and all-in-all still keep in contact as much as we can, despite being on opposite ends of the galaxy. Now, Joel… for the better part of two, maybe three years now, has been in a romantic, sometimes sexual relationship with a Cornerian immigrant from a planet in their system called Fichina. Her name is Skae." he stopped to let out a chuckle when the audience started to do the same. "Hey, I'm allowed to air some dirty laundry, okay? Joel's been telling some of my shit to this girl, and whatever—I really couldn't give a shit. Hell, I'll let the entire world know he's been gettin' his kink on with a furry; he won't care. He'll fuckin'…" He laughed again, almost uncontrollably. "If he was here, he'd pull both their pants down and do it right in front of us just to prove his point. He honestly does not care what I say, because half the time I'm telling the truth, and the other half is me attempting to be funny. I won't tell you which part is which."

"Anyway… to get back on track here… If I remember correctly, I do believe Joel proposed to her just a few months ago, and they're set to be married in the next couple of months. Let it be known that I couldn't be happier for him. He deserves someone that close to his heart. If his phone calls with me are any indication, I can safely assure everyone here that Joel is just… just madly in love with this girl… wolf… whatever—I don't fuckin' care. I don't want to drown everyone with a sappy love story, but that's just how life is sometimes. If you wanna hear me talk about Joel for an hour, just listen to my podcast; I'm saving my talk here for something better."

He scrolled through his tablet screen. "However… let it also be known that Skae, now Joel's fiancée, has a very long track record… and most of the things on here are not good. She is medically considered to be _emotionally unstable_ , which is a long story that I… I think I have enough time to explain. I'll—I'll do it quick here—fuck it; why not? While still living on Fichina, their acting Senator refused to supply soldiers and supplies to fight the admittedly short war with humanity. In turn, the Cornerian Prime Minister retaliated by rerouting trading shipments, leaving the entire planet without the steady stream of food and other resources they need to survive, being as Fichina is a very cold and icy planet. Brutal shit. Skae, unfortunately, lost her parents to the famine, and still hasn't recovered from the event, apparent with her doctor transcripts I have here."

"What…" Karrin muttered. "How… How does he know this?"

"So Skae here… has _seven_ undocumented accounts of third degree murder on Fichina before fleeing to Corneria. Fucking _seven_! Holy— I can't even make a comparison to make this news sit easier. She also has many more offenses such as assault, personal property damage, damage to city/state property, and… well… things that would be considered _illegal_ here. Listen, Skae, if you ever get a hold of some knockoff transcript of this talk, just know that ya fuckin' stink. I don't care if you and Joel are engaged, you very well should be in prison right now… but the Cornerian government let her off free for reasons I can't even comprehend. But hey… she and Joel are getting married and couldn't be happier. That's a plus…"

Wade cleared his throat, glancing at his tablet screen every once in a while. "What I'm getting at… is behind the physical surface of a cute fox acting and talking like a human, each and every one of these Cornerians have some kind of skeleton stored in his or her closet that just leave us shaking our heads. For instance, did you know that little Officer Marcus McCloud here is only seventeen years of age? The Cornerians let a seventeen-year-old _teenager_ be sent to such an important station here. Oh, but that's not all. Marcus' father, Fox McCloud, is reportedly in two open relationships with two different women, both of which he has lawfully married in their set of fucked up rules. Krystal, Marcus' mother, was Fox's second wife, and it says here that he has been married to her for twelve years. But… but Marcus here is seventeen. Hmm, that's odd; maybe I did my math incorrectly…"

Nathan noticed that Marcus was starting to get uncomfortable up there, as many of those in the crowd started to scowl at him and generally start to get restless and upset. He thought to Marcus, _"Get off the stage. Something's wrong."_

Yet the poor kid was frozen in place as Wade continued on his tirade. "Fox's first wife is a girl named Fay, and they have been married for sixteen years. But here's another kick to the dick… their daughter, Vixie? She's twenty years old. Now… it's bad enough that he's got two wives, but two children out of wedlock, each with a different woman? Oh, sure; this is okay? NO! No it's not! It's not okay! Oh, so, so, so… so _this_ is the kind of behavior from Cornerians that all of us should mold our entire lifestyles by according to our government. In case you couldn't tell, mutt: that was sarcasm."

Wade chuckled as he turned away from Marcus again. "And the best part? That's not even the worst thing. It can be argued that his late grandfather, James McCloud, was the key deciding factor of even starting the war with us in the first place. His motives were charged with emotional instability, after the hiccup in our satellite made the damn thing crash into Corneria and ultimately killed James' wife. Again, our bad; but it was an accident. We didn't, like, alter the coordinates or intentionally sabotage anything like that. It was an accidental mistake on our part. Regardless, James was in no mental capacity to be let anywhere near the discussion of what they should do after the accident, yet he influenced the war hammer more than anyone else."

"Marcus, get away from him," Karrin nearly snarled into his radio. Nathan, however, had heard way more than enough and was much more direct with his displeasure. He stormed through the acting police officers and found his way up on stage, much to the vocal disapproval from the entire crowd watching. Marcus, confused and afraid, immediately darted towards the lupine for safety. The police officers intervened by standing between Wade and the Cornerians, as well as between them the angered crowd.

"Oh, sure, wow," Wade sneered. "Chicago PD has to intervene." As he noticed that the officers were trying to steer the Cornerians off the stage and away from the people, he scoffed. "Oh, so now you're protecting these animals? Oh! Why didn't I think of that? So, do I _actually_ need to remind you that Chicago has consistently been one of, if not the most dangerous and deadly cities to live in since the turn of the century? Hundreds, even _thousands_ of homicidal deaths every single fucking year since the year two-thousand and beyond, and now—sixty plus years from then—you still can't sort out your fucking priorities."

Wade angrily tore his hood back and glared at the officers holding the Cornerians back. "Chicago is one of the most dangerous places on the planet just because you can't do your job right, yet you spring into action when one of these mutated animals feels threatened, when WE were the ones that were threatened when those savages attacked us! Nice to know where your fucking priorities lay. Can't even protect the people you swore to protect, but will rush to the aid of a creature that murdered cops in _troves_ thirty years ago! What the flying fuck is even happening right now?!"

He carelessly tossed his tablet aside in a fit of anger. "This is what I can't—and never will—understand! So we're just going to pretend that the genocide those mutts tried to carry out on us never happened? And we're supposed to forget that it happened so that they can feel more welcome? NO! Those fucking mutts will never be welcome here! You can try to argue your rights and trade negotiations and shell your peace speeches all the fuck you want, but that's not going to make a fucking difference when the government here finally gets their heads out of their asses and realize how stupid they must feel to let you mutts back into our country after you purged tens of thousands of us in cold blood!"

Wade began to snarl into the microphone. "No! Don't you try to fucking argue that! Don't you dare try to justify your place here! You are nothing more than a failed social experiment that is just proving how you mutts and us can _never_ get along! You know what? I want to meet whoever was driving that snowplow and shake his hand for doing what he did to you mutts in New York! I'm _glad_ that your ambassador was killed yesterday! I'm just fucking _ecstatic_ that you finally got a taste of what we dealt with! Maybe now you mutts will understand what it's like to have made a mistake and get punished for it!"

With a groan, he finished with a resounding, "I just hope whoever was driving that plow has enough balls to do it to you Cornerian scum again and again and again until there isn't a single one of you left on this planet! This is _our home_! Our fucking home! And if—if—if you think that you can try to take our home away from us again, then I hope all of you mutts die trying!"

With that, he threw his microphone down hard; the screeching feedback exploding through the crowd as if a bomb had been dropped.


	3. Different Sleep

**A/N: Ayy, new chapter right quick. I'm amazed that this content is being so nice to me, meaning that I've never written this effortlessly and perfectly in months. I basically wrote this entire chapter in the four days since I posted the last one. I'm insanely happy that my writing inspiration is back. So, in other words, unless my classes decide to throw me under the bus with assignments and projects, expect weekly updates for this story. I know, I'm going back to the old days of FC where I'd post a new chapter every week, and I really couldn't be happier. :)**

 **So, yes, please keep the good messages coming in! I was very happy with the reviews this time around, lots of feedback and plenty of new ideas. One idea will make it's debut next chapter if all goes to plan, and I think I'll make this new idea a regular installment for every couple of chapters. It'll be fun for everyone! But yes, keep on reviewing and sharing your thoughts with me. :)**

 **This one was a bit different for me to write, so please let me know if I should change anything. I'd really appreciate it.**

 **Hope all of you have a great weekend, and take care!**

 **-Sheppard**

* * *

 **— Chapter 3 —**  
 _"Different Sleep"_

* * *

[V]

* * *

"Is he okay?" a panicked female voice nearly shouted. Nathan calmly nodded at the small picture of the azure vixen displayed on his transmitter.

"Marcus is fine," he assured. "He was suffering a panic attack almost that entire time, but he's been fine ever since we left. Though, we did send him home with Doctor Connolly just to make sure that there's no lingering issues."

"Thank the gods," she sighed. "Are you okay, Nathan?"

"I'm fine," he answered.

"Your mother is very worried about you," she pointed out.

"She has every right to be," commented Nathan. "For all she knows, I could be perfectly fine one minute and dead the next. I can take the risk."

"That's not what I mean," the vixen argued. "Nate, Sheila worries about you every day. Every time I see her, she always says something about you and how she misses you. You and the whole gang of kids have only been deployed out there for two months, so we can't just assume that you're fine every other day."

"I understand," Nathan breathed. "Listen, Krystal; next time you see mom, tell her I'll call her very soon. I'm expecting a reevaluation soon, so I might be moving around."

Krystal nodded. "Okay. I will. Please be safe Nathan. And please, if anything… take care of Vixie and Marcus. They trust you more than anyone out there."

Nathan smiled. "Can do. Goodnight."

After he dropped the call, Nathan let his arm fall limp as he laid his head across the headrest of his car. Looking up out of the sunroof, he could see the tips of the handful of streetlights scattered around the parking lot. Being how it was so late at night, there were very few cars littered around the weathered lot. But most of the cars had a thin layer of frost coating the windows because they had been sitting there for so long.

Nathan relished in the warmth of his car for a few more minutes. He always waited until ten minutes before the top of the hour before he got out and went inside. Two more minutes to go. He exhaled and pulled down the visor on his car to open up the mirror. There were noticeable wrinkles underneath his blue eyes, and the discoloration of his skin resembled that of the copper tinge his blend of gray and white fur had. His short, off-white hair was matted and unpresentable as well. He certainly was tired. So much so that his eyes had lost so much luster over this past shift that the single speck of violet pigment in his right eye almost didn't show up.

He shut the mirror and let his head sink into the headrest. Though, as the idling engine calmed his frayed nerves, his transmitter decided to break his moment of zen by chirping loudly. He only looked at the contact information for less than half a second before he immediately answered.

"Vince. Listen, I've got something to tell you."

"Is that why you tried to call me seven times this past hour?" the arctic vulpine on the small screen asked. As usual, the now aged Vincent Stazac looked as tired as ever, but was still interested in his call despite not looking as such. His white fur slowly began to gray over time, leaving him with what looked like a full beard of dull, faded gray around his muzzle. His hair began to darken into that shade of gray as well, but even at sixty-five, Vince still had that young smile that could warm even the most calloused of hearts.

"It's insanely important," Nathan replied. "I wouldn't have tried to call you so much if it wasn't."

"Alright, alright," Vince breathed. "What's wrong?"

"There's a rat at HQ."

Vince's eyes narrowed. "A what now?"

"A _rat_ , Vince," repeated Nathan. "A damn mole. Meaning there's someone in _your_ department sapping intelligence and shipping it off."

The white vulpine tiredly scoffed as he waved his paws. "Hold on, Nathan, slow down for me. I'm old, remember?" he sighed and grabbed at his forehead. "What do you _mean_?"

Nathan sighed himself. "There was a human speaker talking about us earlier today, and some of the things that he was saying were definitely not public knowledge, _especially_ to humans."

"Like what, exactly?"

"He mentioned the viral satellites. He had medical transcripts from a Fichinian wolfess named Skae. He had data on the Fichina supply shipment scandal. He even had family data from the McClouds and said pretty much everything about them all the way down to James."

Vinces eyes widened. "This… this can't be real…"

"Then how did he get the information?" Nathan snapped, then immediately calmed his voice when he realized his acidic tone. "Vince, the only way this guy was able to get a hold of this kind of information was if he had direct access to the main database servers, or if someone else gave him the information."

"That's impossible," Vince scoffed. "I'm in charge of the entire server's operation, and the only people I trust enough to give the login codes to are you, your sister, Wolf, Sheila, and Fox. The only other ones that have the credentials to get in are high ranking Cornerian government officials and General Jaeger, and I trust all of them. Nobody else can get in."

"Then obviously you have a corrupt politician," growled Nathan. "Because someone like that human preaching to the masses earlier should not know the things that he did. There's no way he knew all of this without help."

"Okay, okay, Nathan, calm down for a second," Vince breathed through his nose. "Listen, I believe you one hundred percent. I trust you more than them. I'll look around, okay? I'll look."

"Thank you," Nathan nodded his head.

"I'm… I'm speechless, really," Vince muttered. "Who would do this to us? The servers can't be hacked, even with the best software and the best coders in the world… so obviously someone sapped the information directly from the servers."

"That's what I'm saying," Nathan agreed. "That's why I'm saying there's a rat at HQ, and whoever he is, he needs to stop before something gets out to the human public that throws away any sort of progress we've made over the past years."

"I know," Vince breathed again. "Like I said, I'll work my magic and look around. I'll get back to you with whatever I find out, okay?"

"I'd appreciate that," Nathan grinned weakly. "Thank you, Vince. Please tell everyone I said hello. They're worried about us."

"I can do that," Vince smiled back. "Take care, Nathan."

Just like before, he terminated the call and fell limp in his seat. His light blue eyes drifted to the digital clock on his car's dashboard. He was five minutes past his usual time. With a sigh, he turned off his car's engine and stepped out into the cold, making sure to tuck his paws into his coat as he walked.

The large iron plated building he approached had an odd inviting feel to it, as if it was one of the only places that he genuinely felt welcome. The sign above the main doors wasn't lit up, as it was after hours. Yet, the few lights still on from the inside seeped out of the double layer of glass doors separating the inside from the cold night. Using a plastic card, Nathan unlocked the leftmost door in the line and slipped inside, then wiped his boots clean of the remaining wet slush still left over from last week's snowfall before sliding through the second layer of doors.

A custodian sweeping the floors with a wide broom noticed the lupine and immediately stopped. "Ay, Nate; you back," he commented with a heavy urban accent, setting the pole of his broom aside to meet up with him. Nathan grinned and held out a balled paw, to which the custodian did the same and weakly punched it. "Yo, I 'eard about what 'appened downtown, man. You all good?"

"Yea, I'm fine," Nathan replied. "It could've been worse."

"I'll say," he chuckled. "I 'eard there was gonna be a fight 'ad the feds not come in. They's talkin' about it on the news all day. I's gettin' sick and tired of everyone callin' y'all shitty names. They ain't never gonna understand, will they?"

"I'd give up everything to get them to understand," the lupine commented with a breath out of his nose.

The custodian nodded. "A'ight, I'm done botherin' ya for today, man. I'll let'cha in downstairs. S'rememba I need y'all out uh here by midnight so I's can close up, cool?"

"It won't take us long, as usual," Nathan chuckled. The custodian procured a ring of keys, and on the first one he grabbed, it opened up the metal door on the side of the curved atrium he had entered in. As soon as the door was unlocked, he bumped his balled paw with the man's again.

"A'ight, take care out there, man. Stay strong, and don't let the shit get to ya."

Upon entering, Nathan stepped down the switchback metallic stairs until his boots met the concrete of the basement floor. Lights illuminated a large opening in the underground, where two intersecting hallways led off to the left of him, and a large garage door sat to his right. Maintenance crews around the open area barely gave him a nod of attention, which he greatly appreciated at this point. He checked the time on his transmitter again before starting off towards the hallways.

As he entered the hallway, the cement flooring switched off into a high density rubber that ever so slightly depressed under his feet. Paying no mind to the change, he continued forward until he hit another intersection. On his left, an explosion of light erupted out of a narrow tunnel, which he wasted no time in stepping into it.

Once out of the tunnel, and after his eyes adjusted to the contrast in light, Nathan found himself surrounded by rows of seats fifteen, sixteen, seventeen deep arranged in a neat oval around a massive rectangular patch of ice. Not a single one of those seats were filled. As his routine dictated, Nathan stood on the elevated platform behind the long bench, walked until he was just shy of the halfway point—marked by a noticeable dent in the bench—and then rested his back on the sheet of glass behind him. There, with his folded and legs crossed, he watched.

On that ice surface was a group of seven guys. Three pairs of them were wearing matching two-tone jerseys of either blue, orange, or yellow with the complimentary white, and the one straggler was wearing one distinctly black and white. That straggler also stood out by having two white tall ears poke out of his helmet, and a long white curled tail sticking out of his padded pants. The logo on the front of the jerseys bore an uncanny, almost comedic resemblance to that one particular straggler.

Coasting on his skates just fast enough to make his tail bounce, the white canine jokingly skated circles around an unmoving, unsuspecting teammate before using his stick to steal the puck that teammate was playing with. With a burst of speed, he took off in the other direction, with the player in the blue jersey chasing him. The canine crossed his skates over to face the oncoming teammate as he stopped at the blue painted line on the ice, curled tail wagging violently. Patiently, the canine waited until his teammate was within range, then weakly tapped the puck towards him so the puck would through his teammate's legs. A quick stutter step later, the canine bypassed his teammate with ease, even after he tried to push the canine off-balance. He dug his skates into the ice and picked up a lot of speed in seconds, making it to the opposite blue line almost in the blink of an eye. As soon as he skated over it, he pulled his stick back until the blade was up high in the air, and then fired the puck at the net, with a resounding clank ensuing as the puck glanced off the crossbar and down into the net. To finish it off, the canine jokingly started skipping his skates as he glided back, with his teammates laughing along.

A few saw Nathan perched on the bench and waved at the canine to get his attention. When he saw, he immediately changed his course from gliding towards center ice to now inching towards the bench. Before he got there, he twisted his feet and dug his blades into the ice, creating a spray of snow towards the plexiglass boards purely just to show off. With a chuckle, Nathan stepped over the bench and leaned his upper body over the half boards, where he met the skating canine with a kiss.

"How was your shift today?" the canine asked happily, tail wagging as he removed his helmet. With his tinted visor out of the way, Nathan saw two very pale blue eyes stare back at him. Surrounding his eyes were black markings resembling eyepatches, extending back and tapering off at the base of his ears. The rest of his face was pure white aside from his full head of long charcoal gray hair, matted to his head from sweat "Better than yesterday?"

"Worse," was all Nathan replied with as he took his boyfriend's helmet.

That stopped his wagging tail dead in its tracks. "Worse? How?"

"I'll talk about it later," Nathan said, a quick glance over his padded shoulders. "Not here."

"Okay," he nodded. As he glided along the boards to follow Nathan to the edge of the bench, he turned to the other players and yelled, "See you guys next practice!" His teammates' calls back almost came out at the same time.

"Take care, Sami!"

"Safe travels, bud!"

"See ya next time, Marner!"

"Have a good one, Sami!"

Nathan pulled the lever on the boards to let the door swing inwards, allowing Sami to get off the ice. He let him go first, then followed him back to the locker room, which Nathan would have went to had he gone forward at the intersection instead of turning into the tunnel. Sami had already pulled his practice jersey off before he got into the designated room, then tossed it on the floor near his station after he leaned his stick on the wall.

"Sorry, Nate; I'd be ready to go by now," Sami said as he sat down, pulling off his padded gloves and tossing them near his jersey to start a pile he'd clean up later. He let out an exhausted, heaving breath out of his mouth as he ran a paw through his matted hair. "The guys were pretty insistent we get on the ice for a little bit after weight training. Didn't realize we were out there for almost an hour."

"It's okay," Nathan reassured with a grin, raising his voice to talk over the sound of Sami unfastening velcro to get his pads off. The two elbow pads were next to join the pile. "I was running late myself. Things came up."

"I can tell," Sami said with a frown, tossing his shoulder pad vest into the pile.

"You looked like you were having fun," Nathan commented. "You didn't have to get off when I showed up. I could've watched."

Sami waved him off as he slipped his suspender straps off his shoulders. "I was getting tired anyway," he assured. He started to peel the clear tape off of around his ankles. "These guys work hard. I can't find competition like this anywhere else."

Nathan smiled weakly. "I'm glad you're having fun."

Sami pinched the blade of his skate and pushed the buildup of shush onto the floor, then did the same with the other one. As he began to untie his skate laces, he commented, "I am. These guys here, especially the guys I was just out there with, are some of the nicest people I've ever met."

"Good," Nathan nodded.

"Speaking of them," he said, pulling off his skates and setting them neatly against the wall. "Both Hansen and Haygood suggested going out for a late dinner because of how long we were working today. Can we go with them?"

The copper tinged wolf shook his head. "Not today, Sami. I had a really long day, and I would love to go, but I'm just so exhausted."

"Okay," Sami breathed, his ears ever so slightly falling back. His socks and shin pads were next to join the pile of gear. "It was just a suggestion. I'm not trying to guilt you, Nate, but we haven't had a date since we came here."

"I know," Nathan admitted, his copper tipped ears falling flat as well. "Things have just been too hectic. I want to go on another date, Sami, I really do. It's just…" he trailed off and looked at the floor. "It's not the time."

"It can wait," Sami forced a grin. "I'm not mad. Just promise me that we will once your schedule frees up, okay?"

"That I can do," Nathan returned the grin.

Satisfied, Sami set to work in taking off the rest of his gear. His padded pants came next, then after getting a whiff of himself and contorting his muzzle in disgust, the skin-tight layer of insulating fabric covering from his ankles to his neck were next to go, leaving him in nothing but his compression shorts and his stark white fur. He tried to give Nathan a flirty look as he stood up, but it fell on inattentive eyes, as Nathan was just too drained to care. Sami even failed to grab his attention by taking off the shorts before he slipped into the shower area, which almost always worked.

"What's wrong, Nate?" Sami asked over the running shower. "You look lost."

Nathan sighed and picked up Sami's discarded shorts. "There's a lot going on," he answered, tossing it into the pile. "It's overwhelming."

"Ohh, Woofy," the canine quietly whimpered. Even though he was now soaking wet, he still came out of the shower very briefly just to plant a kiss on Nathan's muzzle. "Talk to me."

"On the way home," Nathan suggested, that little display of affection enough to perk his mood just slightly. "I don't want to talk about it here."

"Okay, I'll be quick," Sami replied.

Nathan backed up to rest against the wall. His exhausted mind and frayed nerves found the sound of Sami's shower more relaxing than his idling engine earlier. His eyes slowly began to get heavy, and his head started nodding up and down as he fought with little effort to stay awake. Just when he thought he was asleep, Sami spoke up and jerked him out of his detached state.

"Can you grab my towel, Nate? It's in my bag."

The lupine pulled out the bag in question from underneath Sami's assigned seat. He dug around a little mess of a couple spare jerseys, a few extra pieces of equipment, rolls of stick and sock tape, and a set of clean, unsharpened skate blades before finally locating his towel. Though, as he pulled it out, things in his bag shuffled. He noticed something tucked away in one of those spare jerseys. Curious, Nathan set the towel on the bench before grabbing the jersey. Intentionally wrapped in the soft fabric was a plain black box: no markings or identifying features. He made the mistake of opening it.

Neatly tucked inside and arranged presentably was a thick band of silver. Intricate engravings resembling flowing tribal artwork came together at the top of the ring, where a lone rounded amethyst was imbedded and surrounded by tiny diamond-like crystals. The color of the amethyst had a striking similarity to the single speck of violet pigment in the corner of Nathan's right eye, so much so that he almost saw himself in the ring.

 _That's why he wanted to go to dinner—_

"Did you find it?"

Nathan snapped back into reality. "Yea, I got it," he shouted back, hastily sealing the ring back up and neatly tucking it back into that jersey as if he hadn't touched it. He walked over to the entrance of the shower, where Sami had just squeezed the buildup of water out of his hair. He caught the towel with ease when Nathan tossed it his way.

"Thanks," he smiled, drying off his fur. After he was done, his entire body fluffed up and made him look bigger than he actually was. Although Nathan was an easy six foot one on a good day, and had the mass to back it up, Sami had two inches on his significant other, and was leaner and more agile as well. Though now, both he and the lupine shared similar body sizes.

"Can you drive home tonight?" Nathan asked as Sami shamelessly returned to his seat. "My head is killing me."

Sami frowned. "You must be really out of it. You love driving."

Nathan sighed and started rubbing the side of his head. "It's dark out, I'm exhausted, and I really don't feel like killing the both of us today."

"Woofy…"

"Can you please stop with the patronizing voice? It's not helping," Nathan snapped, digging his fingers into his eyes.

"Was just trying to make you feel better," Sami mumbled, putting on his spare change of clothes.

Nathan sighed again. "Sorry, Sami, I didn't mean to snap, I—"

"I know," the canine interrupted quietly. "You had a rough day. I get it. Just…" he waited until his boxer briefs were on before he stood up and set a paw on Nathan's shoulder. "Please don't take it out on me, okay?"

"I didn't mean to—"

"Doesn't matter if you meant to or not," Sami said in a strong, yet gentle voice. "We all have rough days every once in a while, but shooting that out on _anyone_ isn't good."

"You don't understand," Nathan grunted, backing away from the canine. "It wasn't _just_ a rough day. It was the _worst_ day. I'm sorry I snapped, but I'm under so much stress from _everything_ that I couldn't help it. Please don't take it personally."

Sami, not wanting to argue, just sat back down and finished putting on his clothes.

"I'm not trying to piss you off, Sami; it's just what's going on right now," Nathan breathed. "I'm sorry."

After Sami's jeans and hooded sweatshirt covered his fluffy body, he stood back up to kiss the tip of Nathan's nose. He barely had time to grin in reply before Sami pulled him in for a tight, comforting hug. When the two refused to let go, Sami whispered, "I'm not mad at you, Woofy. I'm just worried."

"I know," Nathan spoke softly, his voice beginning to get hoarse. "You have every right to be."

"I get stressed every time you go in for a shift," he continued, locking his gaze on his boyfriend's eyes. "You have no idea what it's like for me to have that… that uncertainty every time you walk out the door. Every time, I can't _not_ think that there's a chance I'll never see you again."

"Sami, Sami, calm down," Nathan pleaded when he saw tears welling in his eyes. "Please don't cry; it's just gonna make me feel worse."

The white canine sniffed and nodded. "Okay," he replied, wiping the tears away. "Sorry, just seeing you the way you were… it hurt. I need you to talk to me about it… I want to help."

"Then let's get home."

Sami haphazardly stuffed his pile of gear into his bag, packed up his skates, then set his bag's strap over his shoulder. Before leaving, he grabbed his baseball hat with the same logo on his jersey stitched onto the crown and slipped it on his head backwards, letting his long hair spill out of the bill. After he pulled his ears through the special slits, he scooped up his stick and followed Nathan out of the locker room.

Once outside, Sami set his bag of gear in the trunk of the car. After stuffing his stick in the back seat, he slipped into the driver's seat while Nathan was already putting all of his body weight against his seat. Sami started the car to get the heat coursing through the interior, but as he waited for that to kick on, he turned to Nathan.

"What's wrong?"

Nathan laid his arm on the edge of the window. "I have a bad feeling that there might be a mole in our system."

"A mole?"

He nodded. "Someone back home is stealing classified information from our secure servers and shipping them to people here."

"That doesn't sound good," Sami said hesitantly.

"Because it's not," Nathan finished. "If we don't stop this soon, something is gonna get sent over that is gonna put us in a lot of danger… more danger than we're already in just being here. Whoever this person is, he's intentionally trying to make our lives here hell… trying to turn the humans against us completely."

Sami shifted the car in gear and started to drive out of the parking lot. "So this is why you're worried."

"Very much so," added a frustrated Nathan. "The human I saw today blew shit at Marcus, and it was all true so the poor kid couldn't do anything to argue. I felt so bad for him, so I tried to get involved to get him out of the line of fire, but I just made things worse. Pretty much everyone that caught wind of that talk is probably against us now."

"Nathan, I don't like this," Sami blurted out, a concerned expression covering his face. "I'm already worried about what you were doing before, but now this makes it so much worse."

"I know," Nathan muttered.

"Then do something about it," Sami demanded. "If you know things are going to get worse, then… then get out of there while you still can."

"You want me to quit?" Nathan balked.

"I want you to quit," Sami echoed firmly. "I want you to hang up your gun and get out of there before you get killed."

"I won't get killed," Nathan tried to argue, though he couldn't fully believe it himself.

"Bullshit you won't," he scoffed. "If what you're saying is true, then people are gonna start trying to kill you one way or another."

"They're gonna try to kill us anyway even if I wasn't an officer," Nathan argued, his voice starting to rise. "I can—at least _try_ —to mend the gap and try to fix things if I stay with the force."

"And what if you don't?" Sami rhetorically questioned. "What if you can't fix things and end up getting shot or stabbed? How do you think that's going to help anyone?"

"Sami, me leaving the force is only going to make things worse," Nathan explained. "We need as many people enlisted as we can because of how unstable everything is getting. It's only going to make our situation here worse if I leave."

"Then let's go back to Corneria."

"Sami—"

"I'm serious," he deadpanned. "Let's go back to Corneria so that we don't have to deal with this place anymore. Why don't we leave now before things go down in flames? Before both of us end up getting killed?"

"Because it doesn't work like that," Nathan retorted. "I can't just walk into the embassy one day and say, _I quit, and I'm taking my boyfriend home with me_. I can't do that. I'll never be able to put on that uniform again."

"Is it really worth it anymore?" Sami questioned.

"Yes, Sami," he shot back. "It's worth everything to me. That uniform is a part of me."

"Well you're gonna have to take it off soon," Sami stated. "I came here because I wanted to be with you, Nate. I wanted to go with you no matter where you were sent. I care that much about you. I wanted to make sure you felt safe. But this place isn't safe anymore."

"If you want to go home so bad, Sami, then go," Nathan snapped.

"Did you not hear me?" Sami whined. "I'm not going anywhere unless you go with me."

"I can't leave, Sami!" Nathan barked, his eyebrows curling down. "I took an oath of service. I took an oath that I was going to protect my people even if it killed me. That's what I signed up for. If you can't understand that, then maybe you just need to pack up and go back home so that I can do my job."

Sami's mouth hung ajar as he seemed to shrivel up in his seat.

Nathan took a few deep, heavy breaths to calm himself down. "Listen," he said in a calm tone. "I can't break my word. As much as I love you, Sami, and would want nothing more than to just drop everything and go back home so that we can settle down away from danger… I just can't. This is my job. My life. I have to do this."

He saw a tear stream down Sami's cheek. "Things change," he whimpered. "I came here because I thought it would be a fun experience, I could reinvigorate my passions, and most of all, I came here to be with you. I wouldn't drop everything in my life to live with you and do the things I'm doing here if I didn't mean what I said. But… but when I have to constantly worry about you and have to keep the thought of… of you not coming back one day in my mind… It makes me think if what I did was worth it."

He exhaled, fogging up his side window. "I don't want to question if my love for you is worth it, Nate. I don't want to put our lives on the line just for _this_. It was fun while it lasted, but… things change. I'm not having fun. I worry too much. I don't feel as welcome as I did before. And… all I want is to just… go back home with you. Go back to our lives we had there. Leave the worry and thought of death behind."

"I wish it were that simple," Nathan sniffed.

"I don't care about this place," Sami added. "I don't care about my new team. I don't care about anyone here other than you. Nate, I care about you more than you could ever imagine. You don't understand how difficult it is for me to have to worry about you every single day because of what you do. I want to go home, Nate. With you."

"I can't leave," Nathan repeated. "Not now."

"Then I'm not leaving here."

"I don't want you to," he replied. "I want you to stay here and stay strong. Have fun with your team. That's why you came here. I'll stay and work here to make sure that we can coexist without fighting. It's why I was deployed here."

Sami stayed silent.

"It's dangerous, yes, but that's part of the job," Nathan forced a grin. "It's like hockey. It's a dangerous sport and you could get seriously hurt, but you still do it because you love it. It's the same with me and my service. It's dangerous, but I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't love it. I can take the risk of getting hurt or killed …Like you, I wouldn't be dating you if I didn't love you."

Nathan shuffled his feet when Sami stayed silent again. Quietly, Nathan cleared his throat and said, "Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I'm expecting a reevaluation tomorrow. I may end up staying here, but I also might get transferred to a different station… might even get sent home, but that's an extremely slim chance."

"Like I said, I go wherever you go," Sami replied, not taking his eyes off the road. "Doesn't matter where. If you stay here, so be it. I won't be happy about it, but I'll live. Just so long as I can still be with you."

 _No wonder he got that ring…_

The rest of the very long drive back to their residence was almost in complete awkward silence. It took about forty minutes to get to a city in the township of Chicago just twelve miles from downtown where their apartment was. In that entire span after their passionate discussion, not a single word was said. Nathan passed out halfway there, the exhaustion finally getting the better of him. Sami, however, was wide awake in thought, thinking about what he could possibly do to make the situation with him and Nathan better. Everything he thought of in the half-hour he was given was abandoned, as most of them would only make things worse. He was stuck.

The snow was falling in Evanston when Sami arrived. He drove around the city streets until he got to the apartment complex they lived in, very close to the local university and the lake that university was built next to. College towns such as this one were much easier to live in than big cities, mainly because they felt so much safer to live in. Hence why when Nathan and Sami looked for a place to live, they looked outside the boundaries of sprawling Chicago just to make sure that they were safer than if they had just rented a place in the center of the city. Judging by the first couple of months they lived here, they made the right choice.

Sami woke Nathan up when he parked the car in front of their apartment, then grabbed his gear and wasted no time in climbing up the stairs to the second floor where their apartment sat. Nathan groggily followed him. Upon entering, they were greeted with an inviting burst of heat. Since it was incredibly late, the two of them quietly did their end of the day work as to not disturb the other two occupants.

The entrance of the apartment led into a tiny hallway which emptied out into a small living room. The back wall upon entering the living room separated the single bedroom the apartment provided, with the bathroom off to the right in a small hallway. In front of that hallway was the kitchen area, consisting of a few cabinets and appliances, separated from the living room by a long bar counter. The left wall of the room held a few windows, covered by thick curtains. In the corner, a TV was playing a late night talk show with the volume muted. Two couches were arranged in an L shape, with the larger couch seemingly creating a hallway from the front door with the kitchen bar counter. The other couch rested against the nearside wall.

Sami quietly unloaded his gear bag onto racks by the wall separating the single bedroom. As he did so, Nathan wandered over to the couches where the two other residents were fast asleep. His sister, Flannery, slept on the bigger couch with her comforter wrapped around her, while on the smaller couch against the wall, Marcus' half-sister Vixie was curled up in her own blanket. Both looked like they had been sleeping for an hour or two before both he and Sami got back home, so he decided not to wake them. After gently patting Flannery's head, Nathan turned the TV off and disappeared into the bedroom. Sami was soon to follow after all his gear was put up to dry.

Their tiny, modest bedroom only housed a dresser, a laptop acting as a TV screen, a clock, and a twin-sized bed. Utterly exhausted and completely done with the day at hand, Nathan kicked his boots off by the door, then started removing his outer clothes until he was in nothing but his undergarments, the rest forming a pile up against the wall. Sami did the same, tossing his clothes into the same pile to be sorted out later. Once that was said and done, they crawled into the bed.

Nathan rolled over to stare at the curtain covered window as Sami snaked his arms around the lupine to bring him close and to keep warm. "I love you," he breathed into Nathan's neck. "I'm sorry about today."

"Don't be," Nathan whispered back. "It wasn't your fault. I should be sorry; _I'm_ the one that snapped at you."

"I forgive you," Sami replied. "I know it wasn't your fault. I just… I let my feelings get in the way. I wasn't thinking straight."

"And I'm sorry for yelling at you," the lupine added. "I was just frustrated with today."

"Tomorrow will be better," Sami murred, tightening his hold on Nathan as he dug his muzzle into his soft lupine neck fur. "I promise."

Nathan tilted his head to give one last kiss to Sami. "Love you."

Sami couldn't help but return it. Then Nathan did the same. They both battled to see who would give the last kiss, but after a couple of minutes… it just all went downhill from there. Hopefully they wouldn't get a noise complaint from their neighbors…

* * *

 **I swear to god Elarix if you SHIELD my review section again, Driscoll will tear you in half.**


	4. Motion Sickness

**— Chapter 4 —**  
 _"Motion Sickness"_

* * *

[V]

* * *

 _Travelling, swallowing Dramamine, feeling spaced, breathing out Listerine… I'd said what I'd said that I'd tell you that you'd killed the better part of me, if you could just milk it for everything. I've said what I'd said and you know what I mean but I still can't focus on anything. We kiss on the mouth but still cough down our sleeves and I still can't focus on anything._

* * *

[V]

* * *

Not even a five minute cold shower could wake up his senses. Guess this was gonna be a long work day today…

Nathan pulled into the embassy's parking lot groggy and desperate for a mere hour of sleep. Mind swimming with fifteen different things, he felt like his body was trying to shut down with all the stress and conflict he was dealing with. Nevertheless, he picked himself out of the driver seat, lazily scooped his weapon out of the trunk, then dragged his feet as he followed the two girls towards the entrance, kicking aside light flurries in his wake.

The tall lupine girl looked over her shoulder, then slowed down so Nathan could catch up. When he got alongside her, she slung her arm over his neck and gave him a rough shake as if to try to wake him up.

"Come on, Natey-boy, you're alright," she said with a self-confident smirk, giving him a bump as she pulled her arm back. She failed to realize that she almost knocked Nathan off his feet despite him having almost seventy pounds on her.

"Not now, sis," grumbled Nathan, smearing his paw all over his face.

"Then maybe you shouldn't've stayed up all night, eh?" Nathan's sister Flannery giggled to herself. She always seemed to speak with assurance, her firm but often times hoarse and gravelly voice brimming with confidence. Though she was his junior by three years, she carried herself like a commander and spoke like one too… but her attitude at times would say otherwise.

"I said not now," he repeated, his voice getting stronger, but hoarser in the process. "There's a lot more going on than what you think."

"Well? Then spill it, bud," she said, bobbing her head from side to side as she walked. Flannery did have her mother's thick and voluminous hair, but she insisted at keeping it just below the blades of her shoulders, often braiding it to make it appear even shorter. Her rich brown hair was indeed pulled back into a single neat braid, poking through the hole in her cap and swishing much like her tail. Aside from the hair, Flannery looked very much like her older brother, though the iconic copper tinge was much more defined in her fur than in his.

Nathan sighed. "I don't want to waste your time."

"Ooo, drama," she suddenly became much more interested, her copper ears perking straight up and her deep blue eyes expressing genuine, childish wonder. "C'mon, spill the beans. What happened? Was it someone here?"

"Sis, seriously," Nathan growled. "Not in the mood."

"Fine, Corporal Grumpy," Flannery sneered playfully, folding her arms at her chest. "Did someone wake up as the wrong spoon or something?"

At that comment, she laughed and took a few quick steps to get away from Nathan, who was getting more upset as time went on.

"Flannery, come on; lay off of him," the vixen leading the "line" said, stopping to wait for the other two.

"Hey, I'm just trying to lighten up the mood here," Flannery conceded, her gloved paws open and in front of her. "Not my fault Nate's a Grumpasaurus this morning."

"Yea, well, quit picking on him," she retorted, waiting for Nathan to catch up before she started walking again. From what Nathan could see from outside her uniform, the vixen's entire coat of fur was a sleek pearly white color. Curly, neatly groomed silver locks poked out of her cap and stopped at her shoulders, and two pointy vulpine ears stuck out of the vixen's cap like satellites. Her emerald green eyes had a very calming aura about them, as if anyone could look inside of them and forget their worries as simply as that. That wasn't the case for Nathan though. Not even a gentle hug from the vixen could cheer up his down spirits.

Flannery scoffed under her breath. "Gladly. I'll leave you to deal with him. I—on the other hand—am gonna have breakfast with Briscoe and Jaeger. At least _they_ won't be grumpy when they see me." With the swish of her lupine tail, Flannery swiped her card on the back door and disappeared inside.

The vixen said something under her breath that couldn't have been kind, but Nathan didn't process a single syllable of it, even if it was just one.

"Are you feeling alright, Nate?" the vixen asked, reaching up to press the back of her paw on Nathan's forehead. Being as though the top of her head just barely made it to Nathan's jawline, she did have to reach pretty far. "You don't feel sick, do you?"

"Sick in the head," he commented with a partly humorous and partly truthful inflection. He pulled out his ID and was about to swipe it on the door when the vixen stopped him. "I'll be okay, Vixie, I promise," he said with more sincerity, but he couldn't make eye contact when saying it.

"Seriously, Nathan, you don't look like yourself," Vixie commented. As much as he wanted to argue, he knew it was true. The lupine looked as though he was wearing dark eye shadow with how discolored the skin around his eyes were. His eyes could never sit still, and they looked as though there was a thick glaze overtop them. The tips of his ears involuntarily curled inward, and his tail was unkempt and nearly lifeless. He was far from presentable.

"I'm extremely stressed out, Vix," he sighed with humility. "As if living here wasn't bad enough… Now I gotta watch my back wherever I go. Gotta worry about our future here. That fucking mole is stressing the hell out of me."

"I know, Nate, I know," she said calmly, gently rubbing his paw to try to calm him down.

"Plus everything else that's going on," Nathan continued, gazing up at the overcast sky. "Sami is getting restless too, he was thinking about leaving before I talked him out of it. But he's still—"

"Nate, please, calm down," she interrupted, putting a paw over his heart to feel it practically jumping out of his chest. "I understand, okay? Getting worked up isn't going to help. Just breathe."

"I don't know how I'm gonna deal with it all," he shook his head.

"You've got this," Vixie smiled, patting Nathan's back. "You've gotten through a bunch of tough times in your life. Just take this however you'd take something in the past, and you'll be fine. Trust me, okay?"

Nathan took a few deep breaths to calm his spiking blood pressure. "Okay," he said after a bit of hesitation. "I'll do what I can."

"Just keep thinking positive," Vixie reminded him with a cheerful grin. She managed to steal Nathan's ID out of his paw, then swiped into the back door. She held the door open for him. "And make sure to keep your head on straight."

Nathan couldn't help but chuckle. "I'll try my best."

The two of them entered, abandoning the chilly environment outside in favor of the warm embassy. Upon entering, a large common area greeted them, with multiple benches, tables, couches, and chairs scattered about the worn concrete floors. Nathan immediately picked out Flannery, already holding a tray of breakfast food as she slid her way between two very large and fortified canines, who seemed to welcome her right away. Vixie found her way towards a group of guys standing near the hallway that linked up to the main lobby, so that left Nathan to do what he wanted. He slid into the first hallway on his right, which led to an elongated room that housed the medical facilities. The only people in that room were a handful of doctors and nurses, as well as a familiar blue vulpine sitting on one of the beds.

The doctor tending to Marcus saw Nathan enter and gestured for him to come closer. The heavy-set jackal shook Nathan's hand with a firm shake, then slung his arm over him. "Marcus is gonna be just fine, Nate," he said with a grin. "I gotta extend my thanks to you. Sending him home with me was a good thought, and it definitely worked in his favor. I made sure he ate well and gave him a lot of rest. It was all just panic, I'm sure."

"That's what I thought," Nathan grinned back. He looked to Marcus. "All good, buddy?"

"As good as I'll ever be," he replied with a sigh. Nathan could sense that something was still bothering the kit, which didn't fall unnoticed by Doctor Connolly.

He gave the lupine a nudge. "Marcus, I'll be right back. I just need to speak with Nate for a little."

"Okay," Marcus nodded.

When Connolly and Nathan were outside of the medical room, the jackal snuck a quick peek through the small window in the door before saying, "I'm afraid I've got some news that you might not like hearing."

"What's wrong?" Nathan asked concernedly. "Is there something wrong with him?"

"Well, not exactly," Connolly hesitated. "Physically, Marcus is perfectly fine. Mentally, however…"

"What would you expect?" Nathan scoffed slightly. "I mean, he is still a kid after all, and after yesterday—"

"I know, I know," he interrupted. "What I'm saying is that the anxiety attack he had yesterday wasn't a one-off thing. It could happen again if we're not careful."

"Okay," Nathan nodded. "I'll let Commander Brackis know that we shouldn't—"

"I've already spoken with Karrin," the doctor interrupted again. "We've already discussed what we're going to do."

"What is it?"

The jackal's ears lowered. "We both thought it would be best if Marcus wasn't subjected to such a hostile working environment. We want him to train and develop in the best of conditions while still living the Earthly life. So… We made the decision to transfer him over to our base in D.C."

Nathan's jaw immediately unhinged and slammed onto the floor. "What? You're shipping him off?"

"It's for his own good, Nate," Connolly reaffirmed, being as calm and straightforward as possible. "You saw what happened to him yesterday, and with all this talk of a mole being in our system, it's only going to make it worse for him."

"Doc, please, we can't ship him off," Nathan pleaded. "He won't be the same unless I'm by his side. We're a package deal."

"Yes, Karrin told me this," Connolly said softly. "But we cannot risk his mind being permanently damaged in this work environment, even with you at his side. D.C. is statistically safer than Chicago, and we have some of our best trainers and commanders working at that base that can train and care for Marcus better than we ever could. And that's saying something considering _you're_ here."

Nathan shook his head. "Marcus _needs_ someone by his side that he can trust if he's staying on this planet."

"I understand this," the jackal replied. "But this is our best option, Nate. We want Marcus to grow and develop. He's one of the greatest prospects in the Defense division that I've ever seen, and we can't have his potential squandered by a hostile work environment."

The lupine refused to buy in. "Please, just give Marcus a chance. He's only seventeen, doc; he'll make mistakes but he can learn from them."

"One more incident is all he'll need to develop serious, irreversible issues," Doctor Connolly stated. "Trust me, Nate. I would never do anything to separate you two unless it was crucial that I did so. Please understand that Marcus needs this for his own good."

"I promised his family I would protect him," Nathan commented.

"Don't worry," he said with confidence, trying to lighten the mood. "As I said, some of the best in our division is stationed at that base. He'll be in good care, I promise."

Nathan reluctantly sighed, conceding defeat in his own mind. "Have you told him?"

"That's what I wanted you for," Connolly replied. "He'll take it better if you let him know. Just reassure him. I'm not certain as to how he'll take the news."

Nathan rolled his eyes and reentered the medical room. No sooner did the wolf get to the bed that Marcus was lying on did the vulpine blurt out:

"I know."

"You know?" Nathan echoed skeptically.

Marcus cracked a smirk as he tapped at the side of his head. "Just because you went out in the hall doesn't mean I won't still be listening."

Nathan nodded, mildly impressed with the kit. Nevertheless, he still breathed, "I'm sorry, Marcus. There really isn't anything I can do to stop them."

"If they say I'll be safer there, then I trust them," Marcus replied, though his voice was shaky from nervousness and uncertainty. That shaky voice didn't fall on deaf ears.

"Don't worry, kiddo," Nathan assured with a crooked grin. "I'm sure it will all be fine. If you ever need to talk to me or your sister, you just shoot us a call. Just because I'm not there with you doesn't mean I can't give you help."

Marcus forced a smile.

The lupine held out his arms and nodded. "Come here." The vulpine slid off the bed and instantly returned the embrace offered.

The bond he had with the young telepath was unlike any kind of family bond. While Marcus may not have been part of the O'Donnell blood, and vice-versa in regards to Nathan, there was still an inherent brotherhood that was defined almost purely by trust. With Marcus being as young as he was, he couldn't be charged with remembering every little thing the CDF required, let alone being forced to uphold those values on a planet miles and miles away. With Nathan as his guardian, so to speak, he didn't have to worry about holding his own so soon after enlisting. He could always look back and see Nathan right there with that faint smirk he always seemed to have.

The smirk wore off after a few weeks, as tensions rose and the work load increased substantially. Nathan didn't have that luster that granted him the job all the way out here, nor did he have that drive that rewarded him with high honors while training. A daunting task will take a lot out of you, and in the case of Nathan, there was a lot of daunting tasks before him.

Shoving the emotions aside, Nathan gently peeled the blue vulpine off of him and grinned. While it may have been forced and nearly robotic, it was just as good as anything else. "They said you didn't have to leave until tomorrow, so why don't we have a little fun with this shift?"

Confused at first, Marcus just stared at him and cocked his ears. Though, a quick mind scan later, he grinned right back. "Okay."

[V]

On the sidewalk just in front of the embassy's main doors with his weapon securely strapped to his back, Nathan launched the egg shaped ball over the eight lanes of traffic in front of him. On the other side, Marcus effortlessly caught it. He took a few steps to his right to get around a bus that had stopped at the red light, then threw it right back to Nathan. Having fun like this was such a rarity anymore that the simple joy of tossing a football back and forth felt like they were on a fast, winding rollercoaster. A simple game of catch felt like the final game of a playoff series. Marcus _especially_ looked absolutely delighted, as if he hadn't ever had this much fun in his life.

Their game didn't go unnoticed. Nary a passing civilian intentionally ignored their fun. While some merely took a second look or even watched for a few extra moments during their commute, others felt the need to wave or say hello. Turns out that their simple, fun game lowered their inherent intimidation factor almost completely. They didn't look so out of place from a personality standpoint. Playing around and genuinely having a good time made them seem more… _human_ , as odd as it sounded.

Seeing an average-sized man with a full, short beard watching intently from the wall of the embassy, Nathan turned his attention to him and said, "Want to join?"

The man seemed to be taken aback by the sudden question. "Oh, uh, you— you want me to?"

"You looked like you were interested," Nathan commented, tossing the ball over to Marcus.

"Well, yea, but," he paused for a moment. "I didn't think you liked us all that much, never mind actually… you know… "

"We always think you guys don't like us that much," Nathan stated with a shrug. "But I've been trying to prove everyone wrong since I got here."

The man smirked and gave his own shrug. "Then what the hell; I'll prove them wrong too."

Once Nathan got the ball back from Marcus, he gave it to the human and made sure that Marcus knew he was in the game now. As people started noticing him throwing the ball around with the two Cornerians, they became much more entertained and interested. Shortly thereafter, they recruited a young woman in athletic training attire on the complete opposite side of the four-way intersection, an older gentleman with a surprisingly strong throwing arm on Marcus' end of the sidewalk, and two more people in and around that intersection.

People coming out of the train station at that corner were instantly wowed by the demonstration. A group of local police officers standing at the unoccupied corner watched with interest as the football went soaring over the multiple lanes of traffic. The people that were brave enough to join in were having an absolute blast with the Cornerians, seemingly forgetting any sort of tension their race had brought.

As time went on, Nathan's internal, nagging worry began to dull into a little, weak voice that couldn't be heard over the cheers and applause from the civilians watching. His natural instinct to worry about being around a human didn't seem to bother him now. At this moment, the worry about randomly getting stabbed was nonexistent. He actually felt like he had a place on this planet, even if it was just an insignificant role in his eyes. At least that role finally merited some sort of mental profit.

Hours passed. The rush hour traffic disappeared for a while, but came back shortly thereafter. People came in, joined the fun, and left as they pleased. Nathan had met close to thirty people during his entire shift, all of them friendly and unintimidated by what they saw. After every person he met, his paranoia towards their race slowly melted away. Sure, the more pressing issues still lingered as they should, but as for everyone else, his initial bad perception of the humans were being proven wrong.

Maybe there was more than just being stuck in a forgotten limbo of begrudging acceptance and overall hostility. Maybe being considered an outsider was just because they didn't know much more than the extensive resume of troubled past relations. Maybe… just maybe… there was a sense of coexistence hidden behind a layer of propaganda and prejudice. Maybe they did have a reason to fear… but maybe that could be put in the past with a little maintenance…

With the setting sun marked the end of the work day. Time must fly when you're actually having fun for once. Clocking off one by one, the Cornerian soldiers said their goodbyes to their teammates before setting off towards home. Er, home _away_ from home, rather. The last ones to leave were the McClouds and O'Donnells, who waited for everyone to file out of the parking lot before they set off. Since Nathan had exhausted himself with all of the catch with Marcus, Flannery was charged with driving back up to Evanston. Back up home… _away_ from home.

The highway up north ran along the massive, almost endless lake to their right, where the setting sun let out a barrage of warm, comforting colors that rippled across the unstill water's surface. Though, the sky's colors were mostly masked by the persistent clouds that never seemed to want to leave. While the colors along the water may have been warm and inviting, Mother Nature decided to say otherwise. It wouldn't be long before snow started falling…

Thirty minutes from Chicago to Evanston, and that was without traffic. That's a long drive for someone with nothing to think about. Sitting in the all-too-familiar passenger seat, Nathan's eyes drifted. They located the little layer of fog coating the corners of the windshield and surrounding windows. They followed the trails of cracks snaking on the side of the road they were driving on. They picked out every individual color being plastered upon the lake's rippling surface. Anything and everything that the lupine found mildly interesting or captivating, his eyes were locked onto it. Still, even that didn't pass the time as fast as he thought it would.

He didn't want to think. Thinking about the humans, Marcus, the mole, the weather, Sami, his family, his safety… thinking or talking about any of that just made his depression worse. Nathan was always the quiet one. Never to say much unless it was imperative he said whatever was on his mind. Soaking in knowledge. Talks to him were one-sided, and not in his favor. It's not that he didn't want to talk, he just never found it to be beneficial. He didn't consider himself anti-social, as he did like to talk when he had something interesting to discuss, but those kinds of days were few and far between. In a way, his depression resulted from it. Not having that desire to have a genuine conversation always seemed to loom over his head like the winter storm clouds overhead…

Flannery seemed to have all the charisma. Hell, even sitting there driving she still had her perpetual smirk, even if it was microscopic at this given moment. While you may not have been able get Nathan to talk, conversely, you couldn't ever get Flannery to shut up of she got going. He certainly wasn't jealous of her, but he did wish that a little bit of her natural extroversion would rub off on him. While he and Sami started dating months ago, he lost count of how many people Flannery brought home in that same interval of time. Sure, that was her natural confidence and shamelessness showing, as per usual, but a bit of humility would go a long way for her. It's a shame he couldn't trade off a little bit of his for her charisma. That would've benefitted both parties.

Seeing that the monotonous car ride had lulled Vixie and Marcus to sleep in the back seat, Flannery spoke up in a soft whisper with, "I heard about what happened with Marcus; him being sent off and all."

Nathan sighed. "I really didn't want to talk about that," he admitted.

"I know," she answered. "I'm gonna miss the blue rascal too."

"It sucks," he added.

"You would know about that," Flannery smarmily commented back.

Ignoring her jab, he continued, "I'm just worried about how he's gonna act away from us," he looked up into the rear view mirror to see him resting his head on the window. "I'm afraid that he might snap."

"Listen, Nate," Flannery spoke up. "I know you care about him. I do too. But you gotta understand that Marcus isn't a kid anymore. He can take care of himself, and the reason why he is how he is now is because you've been behind him every step of the way, when you should take a couple steps back, if you know what I mean."

Nathan sighed again. She has a point.

"Give him time," she said. "I'll bet you five credits that he'll be working fine on his own in less than two weeks."

Nathan cracked a smirk. "I really don't want to lose my money."

Flannery giggled. "See? There's nothing to worry about. He'll be fine."

"I just don't want to give you the satisfaction of taking my money," he commented with his smirk widening.

"I wasn't gonna…" she trailed off, a devilish looking gleam in her eye. "Actually, I _was_ gonna put that towards some _fun_ _stuff_ for myself, I'm not gonna lie."

Nathan rolled his eyes and jokingly scoffed. "Never change, sis."

Flannery shrugged. "Well, being the eldest daughter, I should be the one that gets the most love from a big, strong man… I didn't know I had to _compete_ with _my brother_ , though."

"You can't change what you can't change," Nathan remarked.

Looking over her shoulder first, Flannery asked, "Am I, like, the only one that actually knows?"

"Marcus does."

"Marcus knows _everything_ about us, Nate; he doesn't count," the wolfess grunted. "I mean, have you even told mom and dad yet? I mean, you and Sami didn't start dating until… what? Two, three weeks before you guys were slated to get shipped out here? Did… did you ever tell them?"

Nathan didn't want to answer, but he knew that she would heckle him all the way home if he didn't. Begrudgingly, he answered, "No."

"Why?" she asked, acting more mature than her elder counterpart.

"Do you realize how much stress that would have put on me if I told them and then just ran off like this?" Nathan questioned back. Before she could answer, he continued, "For all they know, I could've just signed up for this program just to run off with him and not have to deal with whatever they would say about me."

"Well, it's not like you're the only son," she said with a snicker. "The twins just hit eighteen, so Kurt's only nine years behind you. Adrian is fifteen now. You really don't have anything to worry about."

"It's not that," he shook his head. "Dad put a lot of faith into me, and I can't help but think that he'll lose some respect if I come out to him. Sami's family borderline _disowned_ him after he came out."

Flannery couldn't help but laugh. "Do you really think mom is gonna flip shit if you come out? Nate, when I was sixteen, I was _convinced_ that mom was somehow a lesbian. Don't ask me why, okay? But I just knew, alright? So, even if I'm completely wrong, I know that there's at least two people in the family that support you."

"Two?" he echoed.

"Mom… and me."

Nathan slowly nodded his head. "Thanks sis…" he said with a miniscule grin. "You know, for someone who can't keep their legs closed, you're really good at talking people up."

"Hey, low blow, Nate," she smirked back. "You're just jealous I get more dick than you do."

"Hey, I get plenty of dick, thank you," Nathan smugly shot back.

"Whatever," Flannery shrugged him aside. "And you're welcome, by the way."

"I mean, I…" Nathan trailed off when he noticed the vixen in the back seat start to stir. "I'll talk to them whenever I get a chance."

"Good," Flannery nodded.

The rest of the ride felt like a blur with everything running around in Nathan's head. Just when he thought he'd abandoned the constant worry plaguing his mindset, another wave came to greet him with a less-than-friendly welcome. To ease his headache, he pressed his forehead against his window, letting the cold soothe his pain.

"Hey, look."

Nathan returned to the real world to see Flannery pulling into their apartment's parking lot. The wolfess was pointing to a group of kids and teenagers playing in the parking lot with a familiar tailed friend. Minus Sami, there were six others with hockey sticks shooting at a net set up in an unused portion of the paved lot. Just by first looks, the group seemed to be having a lot of fun.

"Sami stole your idea, Nate," Vixie giggled from the back seat.

Nathan just smiled and watched. Three of those kids looked to be grade-schooler age, while the other three had to have been high-schoolers. It didn't matter, they were having an absolute blast of a time passing their worn tennis ball to each other before someone took the shot on the empty net.

Nathan was the first out of the car once his sister parked it in their usual spot. Sami instantly saw him and motioned him to come closer. The humans all waved as well, getting a smile out of the lupine.

"Having fun?" Nathan asked as Sami pulled him into a hug. Knowing they were being watched, Sami didn't go much further than that.

"A blast," Sami said with excitement. "I saw a couple of these kids playing and thought it would be cool if I joined. They didn't have a problem with it at all."

"Sami's a really good player!" shouted one of the smaller kids in the group.

"He is," Nathan confirmed. "I'll let you guys finish your game, okay?"

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you, Nate," Sami interjected.

"Oh, uh, okay," he replied with minor hesitance. "What about?"

Before he could finish asking, Sami turned around and said, "I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Sami, what about?" Nathan repeated once the canine turned around. Sami didn't answer, opting to grab Nathan's arm and gently pull him along. After asking for a third time, Sami stopped at the stairs leading up to their apartment and let out a sigh before climbing up.

"It's something I think I should tell you. I'll tell you right now: you won't like it."

* * *

[VΔV]

* * *

"Wow, Vince, I… I don't know what to say. This… this is insane."

A slack-jawed Wolf O'Donnell and his equally shocked wife Sheila stood in awe of the pipebomb Vince just dropped.

General Jaeger, now in his late sixties and showing much, if not all of that age, just shook his head in stunned silence. They hybrid awkwardly cleared his throat and said, "But can you actually confirm this?"

Vince scoffed. "If I actually could, I'd be telling you who actually did it," he said with dripping sarcasm. He looked like he had missed out on a couple days' worth of sleep, so Wes cut him some slack for the blatant hostility. The arctic fox started rummaging through a haphazard stack of folders on his desk, all the while scanning through his transmitter interface to show his documentation.

"What Nathan said does make sense," Sheila spoke up, nervously pawing at her eruption of cinnamon colored locks. "But… why? Why would anyone do this?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, my dear," Wes muttered. "I have to agree, a mole in our system would explain a lot of inconsistencies between our data here and the actions way out there. I wish I could tell you why; I really do…" he shook his head. "But I just can't…"

"You're right, it explains so much," Wolf spoke up. "Nathan only talked about what that speaker said, but explains more. We can probably link that to how Senator Dixie's attackers knew where she was. That meeting wasn't broadcast to the public, so obviously those people knew something they shouldn't."

"I think I'm making ties here," Vince said, shoving paperwork aside to expose the large screen on the table they were surrounding. As Vince continued with his explanations, he began swiping files from his transmitter to the table, displaying them for all to see. "Please don't take all of this as truth right away, but I'd have good reason to believe it without concrete evidence. The connections all make sense, but I can't confirm them."

He swiped two files onto the screen, then pointed at them saying, "Based on what Nathan told me, this speaker, Driscoll, must have access to all of these documents. Being that he has these, it can also be assumed that he has the files that these documents came from, which is almost three quarters of our entire database. But, he may not have everything, so don't think much of this yet. I am just throwing stuff at table."

He threw more documents onto the display. "Unless there are more than one major outlets this _mole_ is feeding information to, let's just assume that Driscoll and the attackers in New York have some sort of correlation, because the latter could not have known Senator Dixie's exact location without help. I did my research and branched out to New York's government, and they provided me with city camera access for the day of the attack on Dixie. They want to get to the bottom of this just as we do."

He tossed a video onto the table, and as it played, he explained, "The men in the vehicles that terrorized this street were wearing very light tactical vests and common, heavily worn clothing—though, they were mostly either very dark or made of denim—and their faces were covered with scarves. As I said, I did some research and found out what group they were affiliated with, because something this deliberate and coordinated could not have been a one-off thing. My research leads me to believe that these men were part of a group called "Sanity", a fairly large anarchist group with a cult-like following. They're very violent and militant-like, which explains why they did more than just attack Senator Dixie."

Vince put four files on top of the video display, showing four individual profiles. "These four are the leaders of Sanity. All four are on the nation's list of most wanted criminals, though I could not locate the reasons for any of them. But I could imagine it's not for robbing a bakery."

The first, labelled "Scott Conners", pictured a man with a thick, discolored beard and a shaved head underneath a dark hood. His dim green eyes were extremely cold, as if they were the eyes of a man possessed, but he bore a chilling smirk that screamed that this man seemed to enjoy pain more than any sane person would. The chipped left canine revealed by his sinister smile made his appearance all the more frightening.

The second in the list was "Riley Barrett", a very large man sporting a wild, unkempt beard and similar style of long hair. He had the look of not only someone who would enjoy hurting people, but a look that showed he _wanted_ to hurt people. A stoic expression left his face seemingly emotionless, sending chills down Sheila's spine when she saw it for the first time.

Next up, a blurry picture of "HC Sterling". He was the only one of the four that wore the usual cloth mask of Sanity members that covered everything below his eyes in this particular photo. Thick rimmed glasses were perched on his crooked nose, giving a weird gleam to the light brown eyes behind them. His eyes matched his short, spiked up hair in an uncanny way, and he looked to be the most shifty and untrustworthy out of all of them.

Lastly, a female named "Nixon Newell". Although her appearance looked convincingly normal for someone of their occupation, Wolf immediately spotted the deceptiveness in her look. He immediately knew that she was a few cards short of a full deck. Ratty, dark hair adorned her head, while icy eyes rounded out her face. Her picture also showed her right hand balled by her neck, brandished with an odd looking tattoo that seemed to snake up her arm.

Overall, this group—ironically—looked to be anything but their namesake.

"Are they extremists?" asked Wes.

"Not much is known about them, other that they're very dangerous and unpredictable," Vince explained. "These four lead the Sanity movement, and there's no telling how many are associated with them. If the actions of the group can be associated with the leaders, then yes, I'd consider them extremists."

Vince tapped on Conners' profile, which displayed a map of the States with occasional red dots littering the screen. There was a very chilling correlation between high concentrations of the red dots and places where Cornerian diplomatic activity took place. "They rarely separate from each other, these four do," Vince said, tapping on the other three to display blue, orange, and purple dots respectively. While some dotted in odd, random places, a lot of them were together in high traffic and high population areas. "The supposed Sanity members aside from these four tend to flock to these areas. Chicago, New York, Los Angeles, D.C… …It's like they know where we are."

"LA was a proposed embassy build location," Wes remarked, stroking his bearded muzzle. "They must know."

"Which leads me to believe that Driscoll, the only known holder of these classified Cornerian documents, has some sort of affiliation with Sanity due to their presence in documented areas of activity," Vince concluded. "This is just a hunch though. After all, I can't fabricate evidence depicting their relationship; Driscoll and Sanity's. But the members of Sanity should not know the things they do, the proposed LA build and Senator Dixie's meeting, namely."

While Sheila stayed quiet and huddled behind her husband, Wolf spoke up, "We need to let the officers of the embassy buildings know."

"No," Vince immediately shot him down. "As soon as we try to give anyone a lead on Earth, Sanity will be right there to shut them down. Our message to them will be archived on the server no matter what, and although we cannot confirm nor deny that they have access to our servers, we cannot take this risk."

"What do you mean?" Wes asked.

"They will hear our message no matter what we do to try to hide it," Vince concluded. "Unless one of us personally goes to Earth and tells our officers that way, Sanity will know we blew their supposed _cover_ , and they are known to act very aggressively. Think of it this way: we send a message to, say, the Chicago station. We tell them that an extremist group called Sanity may or may not be behind the server's hacking, and that they are the ones trying to destabilize our relationship with Earth. They will hear that, then plant a bomb at the embassy and watch it explode."

Sheila whimpered and clutched at Wolf's jacket.

"Okay, what do these people want?" Wes said, apparently annoyed.

"Sanity wants us out," Vince deadpanned. "They argue that their rights as natural citizens are being bent and shaped to accommodate for Cornerian inclusion, that their economy is being thrown out of whack, and that they want to return their nation to order by removing the change. I'm not making a definite conclusion here, but I'm guessing that Driscoll, among many others that adopt his doctrine, is just a mouthpiece for Sanity without explicitly preaching Sanity's lifestyle.

Wes narrowed his eyes. "You seem to be making a lot of educated guesses about something you claim we don't know much about."

"It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see the relations, sir," Vince answered truthfully, his ears ever so slightly folding back. "These guesses are all that we have, and although I'm drawing conclusions from little evidence—which would get me laughed at in academic discourse—I cannot see any other viable alternative unless we get more information."

Vince cupped his head. "But telling our officers in New York or Chicago to investigate is basically sending them on a suicide mission, just because of the uncertain truth that Sanity might know. All of what I'm saying to you right know is being saved on my personal server just because I'm so paranoid that someone from Sanity might find out that we're investigating and retaliate."

"Then what's stopping them from attacking right now?" Wes questioned. "Pardon me for playing devil's advocate here, but what is stopping Sanity from planning another attack like they did in New York?"

Vince shrugged. "If I can make yet another educated guess, I'd say that they're waiting for reason. If they just attacked us for no concrete reason, their following would dissipate. They pride themselves on not being the aggressors of physical conflict despite being confrontational and aggressive in nature. Every documented gathering of Sanity members I've ever found showed them being confrontational to protestors, but they never technically instigated the violence. This is how a lot of their members walk away from conflicts without consequences, because they can accurately say that they did not start the violence and that they were only defending themselves when their words came to blows."

"Then why did they attack Dixie?" Wes shot.

The arctic fox shrugged again. "My guess is that—"

"Vince, stop guessing," Wes interrupted. "We need the truth."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't have the information to," Vince whimpered. "For all I know, everything that I'm saying could be a flat out lie. It's… killing me inside knowing that I can't put my full faith into one given answer. This is about as difficult as quantum theory, sir."

Wes sighed. "Continue."

Vince looked at his notes. "I… I think the reason why Sanity attacked that day was because they had an opportunity. Dixie was moving and—honestly—wasn't very well protected. Sanity's political counterparts are considered enemies, and that's where their aggressive mindset comes to the forefront. The biggest mass arrest of Sanity members came shortly after a failed assassination attempt on an important political figure in Chicago, and fifteen members were arrested and prosecuted of conspiracy and terrorism. So, it leads me to believe that their "non-aggressor" nature drops to the background when they have the opportunity to shape the political landscape."

Wolf stroked his face. "So, barring the politicians, they won't fight unless we do… That's easy then, just tell our troops not to retaliate against these people."

Vince again shook his head. "Not that easy. Sanity plays mind games. It's easy to get their games mixed with actual violence. It sounds unbelievable and absurd, but I… I honestly don't know how they do it. I've studied tapes for hours after I connected the dots that led to them, but… I can't figure it out. They're master deceptionsists, all of them are."

"So are you saying we're trapped?" Wes scoffed. "We can't make the first move because they'll take that as a threat."

Vince massaged the side of his head. "I don't know, sir. I actually don't know. If we make a move against them, then they have reason to fight back. If we start moving troops around, they have reason to believe we are plotting something, then they attack. Hell, if we even do _nothing_ at _all_ , we're in danger of being targeted, and chances are they will get away with it."

Wes huffed. "Vince, I cannot fathom how you think this. All of this sounds absolutely crazy. Are you really that paranoid?"

"We can't know anything for sure until we get evidence, but we can't get more until we know more about them, so we're stuck in a paradoxical loop," Vince began to get flustered. "Sitting on our thumbs! We wait until something happens but by then we're already too late. They have us cornered and I can't figure out how to get us out of it!"

As Vince started to hit his head against the table in frustration, Sheila suddenly broke off of Wolf and escaped out of the room. Immediately, Wolf went after her to see what was wrong. As he left the room, Sheila grabbed onto him and embraced him with all of her strength, crying into his shoulder all the while.

"I know, She, I know," Wolf tried to console her. "I'm scared too."

"I want them back," she sobbed, making a mess of her neatly groomed fur. "I want them to come home."

"I do too," Wolf whispered to try to calm her down. While holding the husky's head close to him and scratching at that place that almost always sent her into euphoria, he looked over his shoulder and at Vince and Wes, who were still talking. Wolf gently led Sheila away from the doorway, then lifted her head off his shoulder. Wolf shook his head.

"What?" the husky whimpered.

"I'm not buying it," Wolf nearly growled to himself. "Something is off."

"What do you mean?" Sheila asked, shaking away her emotions. "What's off?"

Wolf shook his head again. "I don't trust him."

"Who, Vince?"

"Shh," Wolf hissed, gingerly clamping her muzzle shut. Again, Wolf took a quick glance over his shoulder and at the open doorway.

Sheila shoved his arm aside. "Oh come on, Wolf! You can't be serious!"

"He's making it out to be a lot worse than it probably is," Wolf said, his voice nearly silent. "There's no way it's that complicated. No way."

"He's the one with the research, Wolf," Sheila argued, lowering her voice as well. "He probably spent all night connecting the dots. He might just not be explaining everything well because he's tired."

Wolf huffed. "Okay, I'll give him that. But not being able to contact them with this kind of info? Is he actually serious?"

"I don't know, okay?" she frowned. "Vince obviously put a lot of time into researching but hasn't had the time to iron out all the details. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt, okay? But that's no reason to just turn on him like this."

"I'm not turning on him," argued Wolf. "I'm just saying that he knows something we don't."

"Don't be ridiculous," she hissed. "He told us that everything shouldn't be taken at face value yet."

"But the way he's drawing conclusions has me curious," he added.

"Me too, but that's because we don't know everything yet," she started to rub at his chest, feeling his heavy heartbeat and rising pulse though his jacket. "Like he said, he doesn't know everything. For all we know, everything could change if he finds something new."

Wolf sighed. "You're right. …I'm sorry for acting all weird. I didn't mean to get you worked up."

"It's fine," Sheila replied with a comforting smile, brushing away some stray strands of hair. "I'm just worried sick about Nate and Flannery."

"I am too," he nodded. "I know Vince said not to talk, but I need to let Nathan know. He's the one worried out there, so I think it would be good if I let him know what's happening."

Sheila nervously started playing with her hair again. "I don't know, Wolf…"

"I have to," he repeated. "It's a risk I'm willing to take. Besides, I have trouble believing all this talk about… everything, really."

"Just, be careful of what you say, okay?" the husky stammered. "You know how much this worries me."

"I know, dear, I know," Wolf gave her another gentle hug. "It'll be fine, I promise."

With that, Wolf gave her a quick kiss before leading her away.

* * *

[V]

* * *

 **A/N: Sanity makes me lose my own sanity when writing, oi... Please excuse any botches in plot or otherwise; I promise that everything turns out okay in the end. I'd be happy to clarify any questions just so long as it doesn't spoil the upcoming events.  
**

 **Hoped you guys enjoyed regardless, and again, reviews are greatly appreciated. :)**

 **-Sheppard**


	5. Soaking Neptune

**A/N: I'm very very happy with the feedback that I've been getting, and the conversations I've been having with you too. You're really helping me shape this story in the right direction, and I can't tell you how happy I am that so many of you are actively interested and are putting so much thought into this crazy project. Sure, it may be a crazy project, but only five chapters in now, it's already become my favourite crazy project.**

 **Again, thank you to everyone who's left their thoughts in reviews, and thanks for everyone who's followed and fav'd this story. If you're a reader that hasn't done either of those things yet; please do so. Even if you haven't made an account here yet, go sign up, come back here, and then drop me a favourite. It means a lot to see someone reading my crazy work. Yes, your clicks mean that much to me. :)**

 **Take care everyone, and enjoy. ;)**

 **-Sheppard**

* * *

 **— Chapter 5 —**  
 _"Soaking Neptune"_

* * *

[V]

* * *

"You're leaving?"

Sami showed Nathan the boarding pass saved onto his transmitter. The poor wolf was speechless.

"But… but what about all we talked about?"

The white canine sighed. "I thought about it a lot today. Thought about what you said last night… what _I_ said… everything we talked about… and everything going on right now. I thought about it all, and it really wasn't an easy decision on my part, but… I decided that you were right."

Nathan blinked. "Sami, I wanted you to stay," he whimpered like a puppy that had just been kicked.

"No, Nate, you were right about everything," he corrected. "Listen, last night was crazy for both of us. I was just so shocked with how differently you were acting and couldn't really direct my thoughts in the way I wanted to. I thought about why that happened and what you said, and… As much as it really hurts, I think it's time for me to go home."

"Sami…" Nathan was fighting back tears at this point.

"It's not what you think," Sami tried to explain. "I'm not mad at you, I promise. I'd never just pack up and leave if I was mad. I'm doing it because I think it will help you."

"What are you talking about?"

"You told me you were worried about me," Sami started, his eyes drifting towards the floor. "You're right; I don't have the training to defend myself if something goes wrong, and you constantly have to worry about that when you're at work. I know it's distracting. I know, Nate, you have your obligations to do here, and I understand that. I don't want you to quit your life to follow me. I want you to do what you want to do without having me as a burden."

Nathan sniffed. "Why did you change your mind? I thought you wanted to stay…"

"I did," Sami affirmed. "But it was selfish of me to think that way. I was only thinking about myself, how _I_ only wanted to live next to you and nowhere else. I was trying to be too possessive… I wanted you by my side no matter what, and I know you felt that way too. But listen…"

Sami bit his lip and took a step closer towards his lupine. "We're both insecure. We both worry too much, and we both don't want to separate from each other… for fear that what we have might disappear. I thought about it all day today, and I realized that this isn't going to be good for us as we keep going along. Because if one bad thing happens between us, then that's it. It hurts to say it, but I don't see us getting back together after a big fight because we don't have that time away. I wish I could say otherwise… but I don't want to lie to you."

Nathan wiped his nose. "You… you're doing this for me?"

"For both of us," Sami corrected. "They always say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Surely I'll come back to visit you often… er, at least, whenever they let me. But I won't ever forget what got us here in the first place. I'd be stupid to."

Nathan let one single tear roll out of his eye. "This was just so sudden," he whimpered. "You were set on staying yesterday, and now you're gonna leave…"

"I wasn't thinking like myself yesterday," Sami explained. "Like I said, I was only thinking of myself and telling you how much _I_ worried and how much _I_ wanted to stay with you no matter what. …I never once thought about what _you_ were dealing with. You have more stress than I do. You have more to worry about than I do. You were right this whole time, and I was too selfish to see it."

"Don't beat yourself up about it," Nathan tried to interject.

"I will beat myself up over it," Sami shot back. "I made stupid mistakes, and it almost cost us our entire relationship. Arguing with you last night hurt me, Woofy. But it was my fault, and that's why it hurt so much. That's… that's why I decided to leave. I want to leave so that you can focus on your job instead of me. Put yourself first for once, Nate. I love how you always thought of me first, but now it's time I think I need to return it. I'm thinking of you first."

Sami forced a smile. "So, yes, Nate; I am doing this for you. I'm putting your career first. I can always join another hockey team; you don't have that luxury."

Nathan couldn't hold back the waterworks this time. "I'm gonna miss you," he squeaked, pulling in Sami for a bone-crushing hug. Sami managed to equal Nathan's force in the embrace, and in the midst of the intimacy, Sami couldn't hold back his emotions as well. Tears streaming down both of their faces, they didn't move for what felt like hours as they just basked in the love they poured out for one another.

Seemed like only yesterday the introverted soldier with a burdening surname asked the timid hockey player with an infectiously happy personality on their first date. They had been best friends, Nate and Sami. For over a decade, those two had known each other. Two guys with a lot in common coasting through life as they deemed fit. Sami was always two grade levels above the lupine, but Nathan always made it a priority to go to every single one of Sami's games, no matter if it fell on a day of training. While it may have gotten him in hot water, Nathan didn't seem to care as much as he probably should've.

For years after they had graduated, Nathan had wondered if what he was feeling was just a phase, as a lot of people his age tend to classify that as. Well, just recently, one kiss on the cheek after practice later, those thoughts were proven to be more than just a phase. Everything was such a blur back then that the only detail Nathan remembered on that day was Sami returning the kiss on their way back home. That was almost four months ago…

Nathan's thoughts were cut short when Sami finally pulled away from the hug. "I'm sorry, Nate," he said with a weak voice. "Will you forgive me for doing this?"

"Of course," Nathan grinned. "Sami, I understand. It was just a bit of a shock, that's all. I'm not mad. I'm… actually a bit relieved."

Sami returned the weak smile. "I am too. I was afraid you'd be mad."

Nathan shook his head. "I can't ever be mad at you. You mean too much to me, and while I'll be sad to see you leave, at least I can rest knowing you're gonna be safe back home."

"Promise me you'll call often?" Sami asked.

"As often as I can," Nathan nodded. "When do you leave?"

"The closest flight I could catch back home is in two days."

"That's not bad," Nathan grinned. "We still have time."

Sami winked. "I was promised another date, you know."

"That I can do," Nathan let out a quiet laugh. "One more night of fun before we separate for now."

The canine nodded. "Better make the most of it."

Nathan planted one more kiss on his muzzle before letting the bigger canine lead him back outside. For at least another hour, just as long as there was enough sunlight peeking through the overcast clouds, Sami and the neighborhood kids played to their heart's content, while the two O'Donnells watched on. As Sami laughed and had fun like he was ten years younger, Nathan couldn't keep his eyes off him. There was something so mesmerizing about him that the lupine could never figure out. Quite honestly, he never did want to figure it out. That wonder was what kept Nathan coming back to him again and again.

"Ah, the bedroom eyes strike again," Flannery giggled, batting at his backside with her tail. "Should I plug the McClouds' ears at night so that you two don't wake them up?"

Nathan breathed out of his nose and shook his head, smirking.

"Or, better yet: should I call Jaeger and have a competition of who makes the most noise?"

Nathan just sighed, fighting back the urge to laugh. That would just egg her on. "Oh, so you're eying the General's kid now? I thought you always eyed Briscoe?"

"I still do," Flannery boasted as if nothing was wrong with what she was saying. "At first it was Fletcher, but he had a girlfriend and she wasn't interested in sharing. So then I found Briscoe. Gods above is he a load of fun. Then it turns out that he's best friends with Ian, General Jaeger's son. That just made it even more fun. They like to do some weird stuff, and I love it."

"You are insane," Nathan groaned.

"Hey, don't kink shame," Flannery scoffed at him. "I don't make fun of what _you_ do."

"I can't believe I share a last name with you," muttered Nathan.

"Don't act like it's a bad thing," she smirked.

"It is when you're doing that."

"Well, then sharing a last name with you is bad because of what you do," she jokingly laid her hands on her hips. "See, I can be mean too."

"You're such a baby."

"Hey, only Jaeger and Briscoe can call me that," Flannery corrected.

Nathan finally let out a quiet laugh. "Love you, sis."

Flannery cooed and slung an arm over Nathan's neck. "Aww, I love you too, you little gaywad."

They watched as Sami said goodbye to each kid before packing up. The three of them went back up into their apartment, where Vixie was already done preparing food. The five of them ate in relative silence; each one with something on their mind that they couldn't shake away.

"Hey, have fun in D.C, Marcus," Sami spoke up after a very long, uncomfortable silence. "I know it might sound scary, but you have to make the best of it."

"I think it's stupid," the blue vulpine shrugged. "It just doesn't make much sense. But I can't argue with any of my superiors, so I guess I have to do it."

"Just stay positive, okay?" Sami grinned. "You'll be back here before you can believe it. I promise."

"I'll do my best," Marcus mumbled.

The night finished up just as boring as any other night. The five of them just relaxed for the rest of the night watching TV until they fell asleep one by one. Once the McClouds were asleep, Nathan and Sami retreated into their bedroom to sleep the night away in the comfort of each other's wholehearted embrace. Knowing that he would miss this warmth in a few days' time, Nathan made sure to appreciate this moment more than he usually did, because who knows when he'd be able to do it again…

* * *

[VΔV]

* * *

The colors on the glowing screen in front of the exhausted arctic fox seemed to mesh into one mass of indeterminate blobs. Words disappeared into the enigma, and the whirring of equipment faded into nothing. Soon, even the blurry colors began to darken as his eyelids became much too heavy to hold open.

"Dr. Stazac, I'm curious," a distinguished voice spoke up as he entered the doorway, jolting Vince out of his attempted rest. He banged his knees on the underside of his desk involuntarily, which worked as a snap of energy in the form of pain. Vince spun his chair around to see a finely dressed black and orange cross fox leaning in the doorway, holding a mug of coffee. The tinge of gray in the fox's fur matched the gray suit he wore, and the blue tie accompanying it matched his eyes particularly well.

"You are?" Vince groggily asked, though it was mostly comprehensible this time around.

"Aye," the vulpine replied after a sip of joe. "You see, I attempted to log into my database account to check our base's finances for the month, per my job description, but my credentials do not seem to work anymore. Is there a glitch in the system that you or myself are not aware of?"

"Oh, no no no no, everything is in working order," Vince assured. "General Jaeger and I were discussing that there might've been a security breach, so, as a precautionary measure, I reset all of the staff's login information."

The cross fox frowned ever so slightly. "I do wish you would have informed us before I wasted precious time trying to log in with credentials that don't work."

"My apologies," Vince replied. "I've been incredibly busy all day. It just slipped my mind."

"I assume the new information was promptly sent to my inbox?"

"Not this time," Vince said, then started sifting through shards of paper on his desk. "Security right now is our top priority, so instead of risking another breach, I wrote down everyone's new info on these papers."

The vulpine rose an eyebrow. "Oi, that serious?" he stepped out of the doorway and approached the vulpine's mess of a work station. "Gods above, Stazac; this is so unlike you. Your work station is filthy."

Vince forced a fake laugh as he handed his shard of information over. "Please make sure that slip is destroyed once you get it memorized."

The fox squinted. "Aye," he said with hesitation. "Well, good luck to you, Dr. Stazac."

With his information and coffee in hand, the vulpine exited the room. Once again, the drag of the never-ending work day for poor Vince creeped back up on him. All of a sudden, taking two minutes to lay his head on his desk was all he thought about doing. As his head slowly started drifting towards the surface of his messy desk, a knock on the doorway snapped him out of it.

"Vince, just go home already," Wolf chuckled as the arctic fox swiveled his chair around.

"Hey now, I still have work to do," the vulpine started to slur his words. "Y'see, I'm the only one around here that can work in this kind of environment with these kinds of conditions, and still work to the best of my ability."

"How long has your shift been today?"

"About eighteen hours, though I haven't been keeping track of time since four this morning."

"Have you eaten?"

"Not since I clocked in."

"Have you even gone to the bathroom?"

"That I don't know," Vince violently shook his head. "But that's not the point. I'm making leads, Wolf. I've pretty much solved the perimeter of this puzzle, and now I just need to start putting down pieces where they fit. But I've got an idea for it."

"I have never seen you work yourself to death, and I'd rather not see it happen now of all times."

"It's fine," Vince replied, sliding away from his desk and towards the table he gave his presentation on. "I'm okay, but things are getting rough. Even with my glasses, everything is a little blurry. I'm starting to lose track of which color is which. I don't think I've had a wink of sleep in about thirty-five hours, and I think my head is actively starting to sabotage me. What year is it again? And which way is up?"

Wolf couldn't help but laugh. "Vince, take a break, alright? Why don't we grab something to eat from the dining court?"

"Hold on, hold on, hold on," Vince pleaded. "Just let me finish up one more section."

"What are you even working on?" Wolf asked, entering the vulpine's office.

"It may not be the solution, but it's gonna get us it," Vince smirked to himself. "Ever since Nathan told me about the possible mole in our system, I've been thinking and creating a way to find out who it is without compromising security and anonymity. I may have said I've been doing research for… going on thirty six hours straight, to General Jaeger, but that was because I was trying to cover up a project I've been working on for that same amount of time. Listen, come here for a sec."

Wolf reluctantly agreed. "You know everything you show me is going to fly over my head," he remarked, alluding to the wall of incoherent text on Vince's multiple screens. To him it meant completely nothing, but to a mind like Vince, it was pure innovation.

"Then let me explain it to you," Vince smugly responded. "Y'see, everything we need to accomplish right now is centered on security. Information is flying all over the place, and we need to secure it or else… you know… But it's nearly impossible to centralize everything because we're bound to pick up something we don't want, I.E: the mole. So, I've been building something that will… essentially let us backwards-hack."

Vince collapsed his walls of code to focus on his words. "It ventures into the world of artificial intelligence. With work, I hope to shove this program straight into the main servers that are getting compromised by this _outsider_. It will let me know what information is getting leaked, and what user is letting this happen. Plus, it's all secure and silent. It's basically internal spying, but unlike spies, there's no chance of this program getting detected; even by the best anti-virus software out there."

He continued, "And it's not limited to software. With a lot of work, I want to use this same program for drones and surveillance technology. We can backwards track anything my drones observe, and it should give us the information that we desperately need in this situation. And, again, it's completely safe and secure. Sanity shouldn't even know these things _exist_ , let alone get suspicious of them."

Vince smiled in self-confidence. "Right now, it's only barebones code, and it will take me days of nonstop work to complete. But this will be an invaluable tool for our success, I'm sure of it. If anyone asks, its long, scientific computer name is the Autonomous Programmable Alert Response Observational Intelligence Droid… but to shorten it to its acronym, I just call it the Aparoid."

Wolf stroked his muzzle. "And you're sure this will work?"

"I'm sure of it," Vince nodded. "If it doesn't, you can pull down my pants and fuck me to death… …Hmm, my analogies don't seem to make any sense when I'm running on fumes…"

Wolf blinked. "Maybe we should go grab something to eat now," he recommended.

"After I eat, the rush of blood to my stomach will leave me with little oxygenated blood for my head, and I may just pass out," Vince explained, but still smirked. "But sure, I guess I've overworked myself a little bit today."

"A little?" Wolf huffed. "Vince, no sane person would work the kind of shifts you do."

"Did I ever say I _was_ sane?" Vince laughed, staggering out of his chair before bumping into Wolf and escaping out into the hallway.

Wolf just laughed along and followed the vulpine down to the common atrium where multiple food vendors arranged themselves in a semicircle around a grand common area. A massive dome skylight hundreds of feet overhead separated the court from the partly cloudy skies overhead. Within the troves of soldiers and groups of staff members strewn about the court, Wolf and Vince found a nice place to settle down with their food in tow.

Despite not eating all day, Vince was particularly slow and deliberate when eating his meal. Wolf could tell that his mind refused to stop spinning ideas and attempting to piece together what all was going on. With the shake of his head, he blurted out, "Vince, relax. You're tearing yourself up."

The arctic fox took a deep breath and nodded. "You're right. Sorry, it's just… I feel like I'm so close to figuring out the connections, but I can't really say I'm right unless I get more data, and that can't happen until I finish this Aparoid project. That's why I've been working nonstop to try to finish it as soon as possible."

"I know," Wolf nodded back. "You know, I… I'd like to say I'm sorry to you, Vinny."

Vince stopped chewing. "For what?"

"For earlier today," he explained with flattened ears. "After Sheila and I left, I couldn't shake the thought of… well, stupidly, I kept thinking you were making all of this up. I thought—"

"You thought _I_ was the mole," Vince finished for him.

The lupine sighed. "I did for a little. Sheila talked me out of it, thankfully, but I really want to say I'm sorry for even _thinking_ that. It's just… the way you were explaining things and drawing so many conclusions from very little leads… it sounded like you were covering things up. For a while, I didn't really trust you that much."

Vince busted up with a hearty laugh, partially drowned out by the food in his maw. Confused, Wolf just stared as the vulpine practically choked on his food to get it down.

"Wolf, even _I_ don't trust me when I'm this sleep deprived," Vince happily admitted, though he was so low on energy that his tail didn't bother to wag. "I'm surprised I didn't start spewing incoherent nonsense once I started working myself up. Listen, I'm not gonna take it personally. I understand why you thought the way you did."

Wolf felt relieved. "Thanks, Vinny."

"I assume Sheila's words were backed up with what I was rambling about with the Aparoid project," Vince asked.

"Definitely," Wolf grinned. "Like you said, no sane person would put that much continuous work into something as crazy as that. You're doing a lot of good work, and I really have to say thank you for everything you're doing."

"And bless Sheila for being there for you to help you put your head on straight," the little vulpine said with a smile. "Speaking of the hair volcano—to finally change the subject to something better for the both of us—did she head home?"

"Yea, she needed to pick the kids up from school," Wolf explained. "And I'd love to change the topic, for your sake. Anyway, little Luke started preschool just a couple weeks ago, which is why Sheila left. So now we've got three kids in high school, two in middle school, and now Luke…"

"The twins are seniors this year, right?" Vince asked, himself happy to be talking about something other than Sanity for once.

"Yup, and at the end of this year, they'll be going into training," Wolf shook his head with a smirk. "They grow up fast. Kurt wants to train to be a combat medic, and Kasey is all about the heavy equipment. I can see them blazing through the ranks just fine. They both have a lot of fight."

"Forgive me for asking," Vince said with a mouthful of food. "But do your kids like the force so much because both you and Sheila were in it for so long? I mean, so far _every single one_ of your eight kids wants to get into the force in some way, and two of them are already in it. Is it just a family thing or…?"

Wolf swallowed a bite of his sandwich. "Partially, yes. I've got Sheila's flight medals and certificates on the wall, along with… I can't tell you how many pictures of the two of us when we just started dating, standing in our flight suits next to our fighters. They see that and grow up believing that Sheila and I were heroes, and they want to be heroes just like us. …Once they figure out the truth, though, they had already invested so much time into thinking about their career that it doesn't bother them any. Adrian was the last person I told, and it hasn't bothered his enthusiasm. …The only person I worried about was Nate. After I told him, he didn't act the same way as he had before."

"I remember you telling me this a long time ago," Vince replied. "Didn't he stop caring for a while?"

"Not a whole while, but definitely for a bit," Wolf explained. "He had just turned sixteen when I told him the truth about me and Sheila _technically_ being traitors and all that. He was the one that didn't take it well, and we learned from our mistake, Sheila and I did, so for the next kids we put it a bit better… which is why Flannery and the others didn't have that same reaction. But still, had we done the same for Nate, I think he wouldn't have changed as bad as he did."

Vince hummed along and nodded.

"I mean, Nathan was such a lively and happy kid," Wolf grinned. "He was definitely his mother's pup. Lots of energy, and just a nice kid to be around. Then we broke the news to him, and he just stopped. He got all quiet, didn't want to talk, stayed in his room and studied all day, and didn't want to go out with many friends unless it was with this kid named Sami and his friends. It was like he was disappointed with us because we had lied to him for so long. He still wanted to get into the force though… My guess is he wanted to be… well, better than us…"

Wolf let a breath out of his nose. "I just hope he's alright out there."

"He sounded okay when I talked to him," Vince commented. "Well, okay; given the circumstances. I'd give him a call tomorrow just to check up on him."

"Good idea," Wolf nodded along.

After a couple of minutes of small talk while finishing their meals, two familiar faces noticed them and decided to join them. Wolf practically got attacked from behind, and all he saw was a quick streak of white flash his vision.

"Jeez, Fay, don't tackle him," a chuckling Fox McCloud popped up alongside the lupine, giving him a rough bump to signal that he was here. Fay, the hyperactive spaniel, pulled up a seat from a nearby table and sat down, with Fox taking the final side of the square table.

"Fox, Fay; how are ya?" Wolf asked, holding out a balled paw for Fay to punch back. "Didn't expect to see you two here."

"Sheila told us to meet up with you two," Fox explained. "Didn't say much, just said that you two had important business we needed to know."

"She didn't look happy when she told us," Fay spoke up, unconsciously fixing the iconic bow in her hair that always seemed to make her look like a teenager no matter her age. "Is something wrong?"

"That's putting it lightly," Wolf chuckled through his sandwich.

"It's complicated," Vince added. "You know it's bad when even _I_ can't figure out everything."

Fox narrowed his eyes. "You look like you haven't slept all day…" he said with worry in his voice.

"That's okay, it's actually been more like two days," Vince sheepishly chuckled. "I really could go for a shower right about now."

"Vince has been working nonstop," Wolf started. "Supposedly, according to Nathan, there might be a mole in our system that is leaking our information to select sources on Earth to try to drive a wedge between us and the humans. So far, it's been working, and not in our favor."

Fox blinked. "Who?"

"If we knew, I wouldn't be running on _fumes_ , Fox," Vince said with a condescending tone. "If I actually knew, we wouldn't be having this discussion."

"Whoa, hey, sorry, I…" Fox started but trailed off. "I didn't know it was this serious."

"It is a pretty big deal," Vince said before slamming his head on the table. "And I didn't mean to snap at ya, Fox, I'm just so exhausted."

"It's fine," Fox replied. "I'm assuming you've got an idea?"

"We do, but it's tentative," Vince spoke into the table. "One little bit of information could change the entire layout of what I have drawn up."

Vince then went on to give a less enthusiastic rendition of his talk with Wolf and Wes earlier in the day. Fay reacted much like Sheila in that she was definitely worried and nervously started messing with her hair or outfit as the tired vulpine spoke. Fox stayed attentive the entire time, listening and digesting the information. The look on his face suggested he had an idea spinning around, but he also had the body language of someone who definitely wasn't confident.

"Well, if you can't do anything about it now, we need to do something there," Fox suggested. "You need info, Vince, and you need it now, not after waiting on your Aparoid project to finish up. Well, the only way to get it securely is to go there yourself."

Vince scoffed. "Like hell I'm going back there again. Besides, I need to be here just in case the mole decides to fuck with us again. I've already reset everyone's passwords, but I need to monitor the database to see what account is shipping off our information myself, until I finish the Aparoid project. It's the only way to catch the mole and solve half of our problem."

Wolf scratched at the long hairs on his chin. "Do you think Sanity will freak out if they lose their mole? Like, if they stop receiving information, they might just think they've been compromised and will start attacking, right?"

"Good point," Vince muttered. "I mean, yea, I said the best way to tell our troops out there would be to send someone to deliver the message, but… I'm not so sure that will be safe. I mean, I don't think I can trust anyone to go out there. I'd rather wait for the Aparoid."

Wolf sighed. "I'd volunteer to go down there, but I promised Sheila I wouldn't lace up my boots again. I have a family now, and they come first."

"Same here," Fox added. "I know you trust us."

"Hey, wait!" Fay spoke up. "I can go! I can do it!"

"Better yet, you could probably send Kurt or Kasey there," Wolf interrupted. "I mean, they both want to visit Earth at some point. They'd be perfect."

"But what about me?" Fay whined.

"Guys stop!" Vince snapped, practically barring his teeth. "I'm not sending any of you to do this. No. I don't care if I only trust you guys or not; I'm not taking the risk of something happening to any of you while you're out there."

While Fay seemed to deflate, Fox and Wolf merely nodded. "Fine," the latter grunted. "But who are you gonna send then?"

"I don't want to send anyone," Vince repeated. "Listen, I made that comment as a passing jab, okay? I know it might seem like the best option, but it's highly dangerous. I want to wait until I can finish the code for the Aparoid."

"I don't see why Sanity would get suspicious about this, though," commented Wolf. "There's a ship going there in a couple days to trade off civilian exchanges. Why not put Kurt or Kasey on that ship, then have 'em come back on the return flight? It'd be quick and painless."

Fox shrugged. "Unless they're deliberately targeting citizens to make their job harder, I don't see Sanity attacking a civilian vessel."

"That's what I'm thinking," Wolf admitted. "Then any member of that group would have a giant target on their back for intentional terrorism and attempting to destabilize relations. That's not gonna work for their image."

Vince shuffled his feet. "Guys. No. I really don't feel comfortable sending another one of your kids there, Wolf; even if it is just for a brief meeting. If you two are intent on sending someone right now, there has to be someone else."

"But you just said you can't trust anyone," Wolf added. "If it's one of my kids, you know you can trust them. And if we add that to the unlikelihood Sanity would attack a civilian ship, it just seems like a good idea."

"Wolf, seriously," Vince grunted. "Just let me finish the Aparoid. We can wait a couple of days."

"But what if we don't have that time?" Wolf asked. "Yes, your Aparoid project is amazing. I firmly believe that it can help us figure out everything that's going wrong. But the point is that even you yourself said that Sanity is unpredictable. What if they do something the day before you finish that program? That's a lot of lives lost that we can easily save by having someone _you and I both_ trust with our lives to deliver a simple message, and then come back on the return. If we're trying to prevent our people from getting killed by these extremists, then we need to act with time."

"Absolutely not!" Vince stated firmly, glaring daggers at the lupine. "I am not going to let you put one of your kids on that transport ship. I'm not going to play around with the ' _what if'_ , Wolf. What if something happens? What if Sanity decides to show up and fuck up everything _on that day_? What if they see that ship and think we're sending in reinforcements? Now that they know we're at least _aware_ of their presence, they're going to step up their security so that anything that even looks at them in a deconstructive manner, they're going to take it as a threat and attack!"

Vince cupped his forehead. "The fact that you don't see this and just want to send a kid off with an uncertain chance that an attack will happen is incredibly disheartening. I thought you cared. I thought you wanted the best for your kids and didn't want to force them into situations they didn't feel safe in. I thought you didn't want to take risks. You're taking a risk this crazy and massive, and are basically putting your kid's life on the line for it. Why can't you see it?"

Wolf just bit his lower lip. "If I had a say in it, Nate and Flannery would be out there," he growled back. "They're out there for a greater good, and they are willing to put their life on the line if it means that they know they are making a difference. The problem with you, Vince, is that you don't understand taking a risk for the greater good. You've never had to put your livelihood in the hands of a single decision that you can't think about. You don't understand what I went through to know this."

"I don't know?" Vince scoffed. "I fucking saw what happened to you with my own eyes. I'm trying to stop another incident like that from happening. I'm trying to save you the pain of ever having to bury someone you love."

"And I haven't felt that pain before?" Wolf shot back, starting to get perturbed at the arctic fox.

The vulpine huffed. "Come with me," he demanded. "Fox, Fay, stay here. We won't be gone long."

Away from the hordes of people, Vince pulled Wolf into a nearby empty hallway and grabbed at his collar, almost butting noses with the lupine. Wolf was genuinely surprised at the strength the vulpine showed, but he knew he could easily push him off if Vince got too heated.

"You have no idea," Vince growled through clenched teeth.

"Why are you even arguing about this?" Wolf questioned. "I was just saying that—"

"Because I know you would regret ever having to bury your kid on a decision you made," Vince snapped, keeping his jaw firmly clamped down. "You don't know what it's like to do that."

"I don't?" Wolf hacked. "Fuck's sake, Vince, did you forget what I did the last time I was on that goddamn planet? And _I_ don't know what it's like to bury a loved one?"

"You didn't love him like I did," Vince hoarsely snarled, spittle dripping from his maw. His claws were dangerously close to breaking Wolf's skin, and his eyes seemed to burn a hole straight through metal.

"He was my father, Vince," Wolf retorted. "How can you say this?"

Vince released his hold and shoved Wolf away. "Because I _loved_ him," the vulpine answered in a quiet scream, his exhaustion finally catching up to him to the point where he couldn't be angry anymore. "Not as a friend, Wolf…. No. When James was still alive, I _loved_ him."

He sat down with his back against the wall, too tired to cry. "After Vixy died and he started changing, I wanted to be that person he could fall back on. I wanted to help him so bad because I actually cared for him. I had cared for him for years and wanted nothing more than to see the best in him. Even when he was still married, I still thought… that maybe there was a chance with him. There was still love in him that he couldn't use on anyone anymore after Vixy died, and I tried to find it. …Then he was gone."

Wolf stood in stunned silence.

"You're the only one I've ever come out to after years and years of sitting on this secret," Vince breathed. "It was humiliating. I tried to get with James just after his wife died. Just think about that. Just think about how awful I would have felt if I had to explain that to Fox when he was still young. But I didn't have a choice because I knew that was my only chance to ever tell him I loved him. By the time I tried to say it, he was gone."

Vince stood back up, then fell into Wolf with a strong hug. "I don't want you to lose someone that close to you like I did," he whimpered. "Please, just let me work. Don't put your kids into this. Leave them out of it."

"Okay, okay, fine, I'll leave them out of it," Wolf replied. "I'm really sorry, Vince, I… didn't know you that well…"

Vince calmed himself down after a while. "I've only told one person, and that's you," he said with a shaky voice. "It's what I had to say to get you to understand. I didn't want to ever have to say it, but… you forced me."

Wolf nodded. "You're secret is safe with me, I promise."

Vince weakly grinned. "I'd appreciate it."

"So…" Wolf awkwardly clenched and unclenched his paws. "Are you…"

Vince caught on to his implications and reluctantly said, "I mean, I guess I'm gay. The only person I've ever loved was James, so… does that answer your question?"

"It explains so much," Wolf admitted, not trying to be funny about it. "But, like I said, I'm sorry I pissed you off. I didn't know that was what you meant."

"Just as long as you promise not to think so carelessly again, I forgive you."

Wolf grinned back. "I've learned my lesson. I'll let you do you, okay?"

"Sounds good," Vince nodded.

"Okay then… Let's get back to our table. I still need to finish my lunch."

* * *

[VΔV]

* * *

"Conners," a small man in a black ski-cap spoke up, handing him a few sheets of paper. "This just came in from HomeBase."

Conners scratched his beard and eyed the papers with pure interest. "New plans for the Chicago base, eh?" he said with an eerie, yet soft-spoken voice. He let out a gentle chuckle. "Tell him I send my thanks yet again. This is valuable information."

Conners pulled his hood back and started pacing around the dimly lit room. Speaking quietly and softly as if he was talking to himself and his ego, he said, "Now look at what we have here… it's amazing to see what goes on behind the scarlet curtain, yes…" he let out his hearty, light chuckle again. "The light is starting to burn their innocent faces. I can tell they are starting to panic. They are acting like trapped wolves, as is their nature... ahhh… They know not what to do… This is wonderful, wonderful indeed."

Laughing with confidence, Conners added, "Now, it's only a matter of time before they realize the truth… If they do not understand our intentions by the surface… we should dive in."

He looked at the dates underlined in red pen.

"Have your fun while you can," Conners sneered. "Your shelf life is starting to creep on. Learn from your mistakes. Fear. Regret. Have you no emotions, that is fine… but allow us to make your senseless brains function once more…"

As he tossed the papers behind him, he let out another quiet, sinister chuckle.

"Run."


	6. God's Shoeshine

**—** **Chapter 6 —**  
 _"_ _God's Shoeshine"_

* * *

[V]

* * *

 _Take 'em all for the long ride and you'll go around town, no one wants to be uptight anymore. You can be ashamed or be so proud of what you've done but not no one, not now, not ever or anyone will take 'em all for the sense of happiness that comes from hurting deep down inside._

 _Or you can add it up and give a shit, go to the family doctor: it's all worth it. It's all, all wrong and it's all, all gone—or you can add it up and give a shit that I'm on the corner of this and this and this and this is all, all wrong and it's all, all gone…_

* * *

[V]

* * *

"Now, we're entering our final hour tonight here on EBM, channel 95 point 3, and the moment everyone here tuned in for is happening right now. My guest in the studio right now is a freelance journalist that seems to have gathered a controversial following in these inner cities where Cornerian activity is just starting to blossom, and all over the states as well. Please welcome Mr. Wade Driscoll. Wade, it's great that you could make it tonight."

"Thanks for having me," was all Wade replied with. "I'm glad to have a place to speak my mind."

"So, for those who don't know who Mr. Driscoll is, I'll give you a brief synopsis of his, shall I say _antics_ , in these past couple months. Wade is a very vocal protestor of the ongoing relations between the United States and the interstellar alien system of Lylat. I'll leave him to explain why he is, because I'd rather not twist his words."

"Bless you for saying that," Wade politely intruded. "That's a big reason why I stopped going on national panels. They'd find a way to twist what I say and label me as one of their famous buzzwords, putting me directly against the Cornerians themselves. Listen here: as much as everyone will try to paint me as a nationalist and someone who absolutely despises the Cornerians, I'm simply not that. I have immense respect for Corneria. Their technology is miles ahead of us, and they're able to keep a strong-standing government with as many people they have in their system. Plus, my best friend is set to marry a Cornerian in the next couple of months, and if I can clear my name up enough—which I honestly doubt, to be frank—I'd love to go to his wedding."

Wade took a shallow breath. "What I'm saying is I'm not as much of a bad guy as a lot of people think I am. Yes, _as much_ , meaning that I acknowledge the fact that what I say can be taken in a hostile manner, but the one great thing I love about this country is the freedom to say whatever the hell I want and not be censored."

"Amen to that," the host replied. "So, my first question to you is the obvious one. Why are you so vocal and adamant about protesting the relationship with Corneria?"

"I never said I don't want the relationship to exist," Wade corrected. "I'm saying that what we're doing right now needs to be reformed. The laws we wrote concerning them and the trade agreements we signed off on need to be burned to the ground and restarted all over. They heavily favor Corneria and her colonies, while we end up with the short end of the deal; despite Corneria's GDP, living standards, resource amount, and manufacturing efficiency being miles ahead of us, even if we do relative comparisons and adjust for population and location. The whole reason of trade is so two parties can equally and fairly share resources, and what we're doing is not fair for us."

"Do you have statistics proving this?"

"Absolutely. A journalist should never create data."

"May I ask where your sources came from?"

"I legally don't have to disclose that information, but all I'll say is that he's a very helpful Cornerian insider. He's making my job easier, that's for damn sure."

The host laughed. "Speaking of data and Corneria, your talks in and around the Chicago area have been drawing a lot of attention because of the information you relay to your audience. Many believe this information to be false. Care to rebuke?"

"I have never said one un-factual thing concerning Corneria," Driscoll explained. "Everything that I have ever said about the system, the government, the people themselves, or anything that has to do with the Lylat system is one-hundred percent true, and as soon as Corneria decides to rewrite the laws concerning us and us the same to them, I will not disclose my sources. My journalistic integrity matters more than silencing a few skeptics. The only thing the skeptics try to do is discredit me and try to silence what I say."

"Is that your motivation for speaking against Corneria?"

"Again, I have never said anything negative about Corneria. I only isolate the laws concerning them."

"But what about your speech you gave in Chicago a few days ago? There have been reports saying you criticized Corneria pretty harshly, and targeted them as a race at one point."

Driscoll sighed. "I'm allowed to say the information I've been given if it means that someone out there will listen to it and take action. I run my mouth on a national stage because I want our government to listen, and I want Corneria to listen as well. It doesn't matter what I say, so long as it provokes those willing to listen and change their opinion. The truth is we live in a world where facts are considered mere opinions because they don't coincide with a universally accepted narrative, even if the narrative is mostly false. The mass group is pushing the narrative to the point where it becomes second nature. We're not allowed to think outside it, speak against it, or challenge the members to _actually_ think about what it is they're following with logic, reason, and facts…

"The fact is the narrative being pushed is that the Cornerians are these benevolent, flawless alien creatures that want nothing more than to establish functioning relationships with us and help us turn the page in our innovation, culture, and lifestyle. But anyone with a keen eye to the situation will see the glaring falsities in this. I'm not saying that the Cornerians are bad. I never said that, nor will I ever say with genuine sincerity that the Cornerians are evil creatures. That simply is not true. I'm saying that the _idea_ that they're _flawless_ is false. It's pure garbage. They have imperfections as we do, but as soon as you try to say they have these imperfections too and point out _actual factual data_ that proves this, you're immediately the subject of dozens of hit pieces all over the media. All because you have a differing opinion. This is as much of a campaign against the hypocritical bias of news outlets than it is to point out the glaring flaws in our ongoing negotiations with Corneria. It all intertwines in one way or another, because they immediately effect each other just because of the majority attitude."

"I guess this next question ties into this," the host started. "What is your opinion on the new group Sanity? They have sprung up in direct correlation with your outspoken opinions."

Driscoll scoffed. "They're not opinions, what I'm saying. But anyway, people claim I'm a part of Sanity just because some, I repeat, _some_ of the things I say fall in line with their ideals. It's just not true. They're extremists trying to manipulate people, I'm a spokesperson trying to get people to think. While what we say about Corneria has similarities, my call to action isn't complete anarchy. I will never condone nor endorse any sort of ideological extremism, which is exactly what Sanity is."

"Do you _condemn_ this group?"

"Anyone in their right mind would," Driscoll replied. "The fact that I haven't yet irritates people, yes, but here's my philosophy. If you acknowledge them, they only get more exposure, which means they're open to a larger audience that may not have seen them otherwise. Lo and behold, there's a giant influx of people joining a hate group just because the media gave them prolonged attention when all they should have done is ignore them. That's what I'm doing; I'm ignoring them. I won't say my opinion because the media will twist it any other way."

"Fair enough," the host conceded. "But I do have a quote that you said during your talk at Millennium Park in Chicago—"

"Yes, that little outburst of me has been circulating all over the place," Wade nonchalantly disregarded. "But here's the thing: in that situation, what would you have done? I felt threatened when two Cornerians I didn't know—who have every right to think that I may be a threat to them—with machine guns strapped to them no less—came up on my stage. I wanted to show that I wasn't afraid of them and wouldn't be intimidated by them. Yea, whatever; I admit I threatened them, but here's the thing: if someone you knew didn't like you came up on your stage with weapons, you'd try everything in your power to fight back. It's human nature. In hindsight, I should have let the local authorities intervene as they should have, but I wasn't going to let them steal my spotlight after what I had just got done saying. I knew they were trying to take the focal point off of me just to push everyone else's narrative that there's no glaring problems with them as a race."

"But you insulted the local authorities as well."

"It wasn't an insult; it was factual evidence that felt relevant in the situation," Driscoll said impatiently. "I don't say anything hateful on purpose, nor with any malicious intent. I say things so that people can start to think for themselves again. The groupthink mentality everyone in the mainstream culture seems to have is becoming cancerous, and I want to do anything in my power to break it up."

 _"_ _Marcus, let's go."_

With a sigh, the vulpine silenced the broadcast and reluctantly got off his bench.

The snow picked an apt day to fall. Overcast skies and flurries of powdery snow dampened the already somber and sour mood the entire base was in. With an eye on the blowing snow at his feet, Marcus trudged along, stopping at the side of the shuttle and waiting for the other soldiers to unload this week's supply shipment from the back. As he waited, two arms slid over his neck and chest and held him tight. Marcus managed to spin around and return his older half-sister's embrace.

"Please stay safe Marcus," Vixie pleaded with tears in her eyes.

"I will," he replied. "I promise."

"I'm gonna miss you," the white vixen added, planting a kiss on his forehead. She forced a very weak, emotional smile. "But I believe in you. Fight to come back. Work your tail off. Don't let anything stop you."

Marcus grinned back. "Okay."

It was Nathan's turn next. He stepped up to the Cerinian, but didn't offer his arms. Instead, Nathan nodded at the vulpine and held out a balled paw. As Marcus held out his own, Nathan dropped something in his palm. A thin, gold chain. With a golden cross.

"Remember?" Nathan grinned weakly.

Marcus smiled. "I forgot about this," he admitted, immediately clasping the necklace around his neck. The cross dangled above his uniform, vaguely shimmering in the overcast light. "I forgot I still had this."

"Keep it on you," Nathan reminded. "I know how much that means to you."

"Thank you," Marcus sniffed.

"Just listen to your sister," Nathan forced a chuckle, giving the blue fox a quick hug before backing up. "The harder you fight, the quicker you'll be back. I promise. Stay strong for all of us."

Marcus nodded again, then was led onto the shuttle without another word spoken. He chose a seat as far back as he could manage; away from everyone else on the shuttle. The heat from the inside clashed with the chilly environment in a way that fogged the windows so that all Marcus could see was a blob of color. Defeated and deflated, he sunk into his seat and waited for the wheels to start moving. After loading last minute supplies and quickly refueling, the shuttle found its way through the wall of skyscrapers and densely packed streets.

Once the shuttle made its way onto the freeway, the densely packed barrage of towering buildings soon became a feature in the driver's rear view mirror. With nothing to see but beads of snow whipping by as if their shuttle was traveling faster than light, Marcus turned to his headphones to keep him sane through the trip. Isolating himself, he turned up his music, pulled his knit hat farther down his head, and waited for the trip to be over with.

They had barely been cruising ten minutes on the monotonous highway before a string of thoughts graced his peripheral telepathy. They were definitely oriented towards him. Marcus turned down his music and poked an eye out of his hat, only to see a new face sitting next to him. He instinctively fumbled into a more presentable position by ripping his headphones down to his neck and bolting up straight, a faint hue of violet tinging his cheeks.

"Good morning," the vixen beside him giggled. Whether it be the subliminal depression Marcus fought with now, or the bleak, colorless surroundings he had been dealing with for the better part of a month, something about the vixen's predominantly bright red-orange fur made her seem like she was _actually_ on fire. Not only that, but her eyes bore explosively blue pigments that rivaled Marcus's fur. She literally seemed like the burst of sunlight knifing through the perpetual overcast; a fact not lost to the young vulpine.

"Hi," came the oh-so brilliant response from Marcus's muzzle.

Again, the red vixen giggled happily. "I know that you're probably wanting some privacy right now, but, given that we're gonna be stuck on this bus for, like, _well over_ ten hours, I figured I'd throw my face out here now so that we don't have to waste time back at the base." Tail wagging and eyes glimmering with sheer excitement like a girl scout troop leader, she popped Marcus's personal bubble with the thrust of her open paw. "I'm Audra. Audra Justin. Or if you want to be super formal, Staff Sergeant Audra M. Justin. Or if you want to be super _informal_ , Audra or just AJ can work. I don't mind any of them."

Tentatively, Marcus shook her paw, secretly hoping he would get it back. She reminded him a lot of Sheila: very happy and friendly to an almost comedic sense, yet there was a part in her that Marcus could sense that was very protective. She had to have been Marcus's size —maybe a little taller—but she had almost fifteen pounds on him just by looks. In no way was she overweight, she just had a bigger size than vixens her age and height. Was probably a lot stronger than them too. Her bleach blonde hair had the volume of Sheila's, but a quarter of the length, only reaching her shoulders if it wasn't tied up into her hat.

"And you're Marcus? I really hope so, because, like, all they told me was he had blue fur, and you were the only one there that matched the description. I'm really hoping there wasn't another blue fox that I, like, mistakenly grabbed."

"You grabbed the right one," Marcus couldn't help but grin. "Marcus McCloud. That's me," he tried to toss on an added layer of character but it just fell flat. "I'm sorry, but—"

"Oh, right right right, I just kinda, like, popped in without even giving my reason to," Audra said in a quick pace. "I'm not just being _weirdly_ extroverted; I actually have reason to be here. I'm—well, simply put—I'm what the higher-ups are calling your counselor _slash_ trainer _slash_ superior for your time at the DC base. I don't like any of those terms, so call me your partner-in-training. I like the sound of that better."

"Trainer?" Marcus echoed. "So you're—"

"Basically a glorified gym teacher," Audra finished for him, smile and all. "But it's as much for you, er, more for you to be frank, as it is for me too. I just remembered that you're, like, three years younger than me. And I thought _I_ was the youngest stationed here! Jeez, you're practically a teenager!"

She sharply exhaled to calm herself down. "So, yes, we're gonna be training a lot together, per Lieutenant Sharp's orders. It might get tough at times, but you're strong. I've got total faith in you."

Marcus nodded.

"Can you, like, read what I'm thinking?" Audra abruptly asked. "They said you had telepathy. Okay, no fangirl intended, but I think that is, like, the coolest thing I think I've ever heard of. Honestly, it sounds so cool! You can just go up to people and read what they're thinking?"

Marcus stammered a bit. "I really don't like to all that much."

"Are you kidding?" the vixen nearly scoffed. "Dude, I'd be using the absolute heck out of that. No more secrets, no more people talking behind my back… how do you not use that all the time?"

"It's not that easy," Marcus weakly grinned. "Sometimes you can't get into people's heads, other times you can't get out. I only use it if it helps me or my friends and family out. I try not to use it whenever."

"Good," Audra suddenly shifted tones. "That's what Lieutenant Sharp wants. You've got an awesome gift, but overusing it would ruin it. I like your mindset on it."

Marcus blushed ever so slightly.

"So, listen," Audra shifted, bushy tail wagging and all. "I'm gonna be up over here for the trip. I'll let you get some rest, cause I can tell you're a bit tired. But if you want to talk… we're stuck on a bus for half a day, we've got plenty of time to just talk. You know where to find me."

"Okay," he replied.

Once Audra scooted off, Marcus sunk back down and let his eyes drift to the window. Just as he tried to put his headphones back on, the vixen quickly returned.

"One more thing," she added hastily. She searched through her multitude of pockets coating her vest, frantically covering each and every crevice on the piece of bulky equipment before finally locating a little chip no bigger than her index claw. Without warning, she stuffed it into Marcus's paw. "They said you really liked music, so I made a copy of my playlists for you. It's, like, something to pass the trip, I guess. I dunno, you might find something on there you like." With that, she winked and left.

Marcus refrained from infiltrating her mind as she walked away, as much as he wanted to. He felt well-off around the slightly chubby vixen. There wasn't anything hostile in her demeanor at all, which was a very relieving fact for the paranoid Cerinian. She genuinely seemed overwhelmingly friendly and helpful… maybe having her as a partner was what he needed. Not an instructor, but a partner he could relate to and strive to impress. Maybe this ordeal wasn't as bad as he made it out to be. Just maybe…

Sliding his headphones over his ears again, Marcus started playing the songs from Audra's datachip. All the while, he set his transmitter's alarm to go off in roughly four hours, giving him enough sleep to get by, while still giving him enough time to take Audra up on her offer.

However, right now… he let the music take over as the movement of the bus lulled him to sleep.

[V]

Meanwhile, back at the Chicago base, Nathan strolled up to Karrin with a somber, defeated expression. The collie knew that look all too well. The lupine blinked, looked at his boots, then shook his head.

"I need to go."

Karrin didn't react very much, but he was still curious. "Why?"

"I can't work. Not now."

Karrin became skeptical. "I know you were close to Marcus, but I don't see how that justifies—"

"Karrin, listen," Nathan interrupted, lowering his voice even though nobody would listen in. "My… my best friend is leaving here to go back to Corneria tomorrow. I don't know when the next time I'll see him will be."

"And…?"

Nathan huffed. "Just let me spend time with him today. I've worked non-stop since I got here, I think I've earned a day off."

The collie didn't like Nathan's attitude, but he was a bit shocked to see how his attitude had changed. Not wanting to press, Karrin dismissively waved. "Fine, I'll let you go today. I'll have Doctor Connolly take the girls home for you, okay?"

"That'd be appreciated," Nathan finally forced a smile. "Thanks. I owe you one."

"Just be ready for tomorrow, and we'll pretend nothing happened," Karrin added with a wink.

Nathan was gone within moments, immediately heading home.

Why did the snow always fall? Usually it'd be much more welcome in such a cold climate, but all it did was torture Nathan. The perpetual overcast refused to allow a single ray of sunlight to breach through. The clear blue sky seems so foreign now that, if he were to see it now, he might not even recognize it. Something so blue and pure… Sami's eyes.

Dammit, why did everything go back to him?

The anxiety of just waiting until he left made him feel sick. Even after thinking about what he'd do without him for the hundredth time still filled him with so much dread that nothing else mattered to him. Why couldn't he just accept it? Why couldn't he drop the fear of being alone for just this short time? He hated being like this! He hated everything that arose from this whole event so much that he wanted to do anything in his power to keep it from happening. He hated it, but he accepted that it was happening and there wasn't anything he could do to change it. But why wouldn't it stop hurting?

…

…

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. But what if the heart can't take the absence? What if the pain of absence just made the heart hurt more than long… The yearning for pure, undivided physical love felt so strong that if it were severed like it would be tomorrow, the heart would break clean in half. Dying from a broken heart didn't seem so far off.

Stop thinking that way.

Enough of that. There would be a tomorrow, just like the last week, the week before, and the weeks prior to that. There's always going to be a tomorrow, and while that tomorrow may seem so very very far away, it's still there. And once that day comes; the anxiety, fear, depression, hatred, and uncertainty clouding the months and months of waiting, patiently waiting for that day to come… it won't mean anything but a minor blip that would be forgotten in days' time. There's nothing to worry about. There's a tomorrow that would welcome the both of them with open arms… Waiting for it is the real test…

Nathan eventually rolled into their parking lot. Knowing all too well, Sami was at the door waiting for him. Once he got to the car, Nathan wanted a hug.

Ignoring the cold, the two shared warmth that could melt steel if needed. So much heart and soul being expressed in such a simple hug, but it was all they could do for now. It felt good to be held. Feeling that emotion meant that there was someone who loved you and wanted all the best for you. While the future stayed uncertain, the present filled itself with love and trust. It was their job to carry it out until they met once more.

They got in their car and drove. Where? Not even Nathan knew.

* * *

[VΔV]

* * *

The helicopters were forced to move inside once the snowstorm began to intensify.

Such a teasing, manipulative bitch of a weather pattern. Just when the light flurries of snow that predominated the midwestern landscape began to show signs of fatigue, the next wave would wash over like angry waves lapping at the sands. The temperatures would begin to climb ever so slightly, ever so desperately in an attempt to melt the permafrost, but then was immediately pushed down the stairs. Entering week five of the bitchy weather, and entering week five of lost profits and unideal conditions.

The workers began to cover up the unused helicopters, conceding defeat for the day. Nobody would want to fly in this weather. Yet, that didn't stop a group of four from entering the hangar just as the large garage doors were shutting. One worker took concern to the new and unwelcome faces, leaving the freshly covered helicopter and confronting the four.

"Sorry fellas, you're not allowed back here," he stated. "Gotta check in with the main desk if you want a flight. Don't see why you'd want one, to be frank. Weather's been pissy for this kind of—"

He trailed off. The man stared back at him with frightening green eyes. Then a toothy smile broke through his beard. Then a handgun was drawn and a bullet sliced straight through his neck.

The big man lagging behind the group drew an assault rifle from his back and started picking off the workers around the hangar one-by-one. Meanwhile, Conners merely chuckled as he pushed the worker's sputtering body to the ground, sadistically watching it until it moved no more.

"You think the weather will hold us back?" Conners lamented, his eerie voice sounding much more harsh and raspy than its usual soft tone. "You see… weather is not a gift to some, nor an inconvenience to others. Weather signifies change. Do you see the changing times, my dear?"

Conners chuckled as the girl at his side suddenly went ballistic; kicking and screaming at the corpse he had just felled. He then took both of her wrists and pulled her away as she growled and snarled at the lifeless being.

"Nixon, your service is not needed now," he breathed. "Save the fight for the great war, my girl. There will be a fight… I will need you to take that rage and use it, but not now."

Nixon parted her hair and smirked, licking her now bloodied lip.

"The great war is upon us," Conners spoke heavy, but continued to quiet his voice as if he needed to speak with himself more than once over. "The dogs of a broken civilization have their own bones to bury. A lifetime of selfishness, greed, blind wonder… anger… confusion… they think they know all that we do but they are lying to themselves. They lie to justify their existence. Ah, but the gods; the gods know better! They live a life apart from us and fix what should rightfully be repaired, but other things… other things may just be better off broken."

The handgun fell from his grasp. "Their broken civilization has no repair in sight… They are long since forgotten, left behind. Ahh, but the gods never forget. Lest they be swept out of the memory of us and all of mankind. Gone into nothing but empty matter in seconds. The gods must have plans for them, yes… They also have plans for us. The awakened. The conscious. The ones that truly believe in a perfect society…"

Conners looked over to the rifle-wielding man. "Riley, my true force in convincement. You know what it is you need to do. If the dogs of a broken civilization heed no words of mouth… then action must be taken to awaken their clouded lives. The clouds will break when blood is shed… I want him. Bring him to me. I want to show the broken dogs that we will not let our society be plagued by these unspeakable destroyers."

"His blood will be on their hands," Riley growled.

"The rest," Conners spoke while Riley began to uncover the helicopters in the hangar. "My children, we have the upper hand. The broken dogs cannot fathom the strength we possess. They claim to not be moved by threats; they claim to have mental fortitude!" He laughed loudly. "I wish to have them say it again when we take action. I wish to hear them lie to justify once more… Lie about their perfect world view when the world they think they own is crumbling, and the world they wish to own pulls away. Their civilization is broken beyond repair, and it is only a matter of time before the gods forget them."

Conners retrieved his handgun he had lost. "The dawn of an era long since forgotten has broken… The gods will us to bring back truth to a collapsing era. My children in cognition… it's time."

Conners led Sterling and Nixon to the far helicopter while Riley took over the other. Ignoring the hazardous weather, the two helicopters rose into the mist of the intensifying snowstorm and disappeared.

* * *

[VΔV]

* * *

"Let me be clear here, this Scott Conners guy is a total whack," Driscoll added. "I'm not… I'm not defending the guy because I'm his buddy; not hardly. I only say I'm not condemning his views and words because he has a right to them. Albeit strong and hostile, he has that right to say what's on his mind… er, what's left of it, rather."

"Have you tried talking to him in the past?"

"Sure," Wade replied. "As a journalist with a platform, I look for anybody with a name people can recognize. Conners and I have similar grievances with the Cornerians, and I thought it would be a good idea to see where our similarities lie. Then I talked to him over the phone to see if he would want to come on my podcast. Oh boy… Listen, with all due respect, I'm legitimately terrified of him. He acts as though every word he says has significant meaning, but he just chains words one after the other in an attempt to sound like a prophet predicting the times of the apocalypse, yadda yadda whatever dude."

Driscoll took a sip of water. "The only apocalypse he talks about is gonna be the one he invokes. He's a man deranged with over-rationalized fear and psychotic, sociopathic views of a supposed _broken_ universe. He's entitled to that viewpoint, but I'm also entitled to my viewpoint of him being a legitimate lunatic. While I appreciate his vocal disapproval of the Cornerians, much like myself, I can't help but worry for whoever's path he inevitably crosses over."

The host took a moment to think, but Wade pounced on the open-air space.

"Conners strikes me as a man with misguided, polarized ambition: he has a clear mind as to what he wants to do," he admitted. "But his views are wild. His following is wild. Those who agree on some of his cornerstone sentiments, I can respect. Hell, I have similar views, as I stated before. But those who actively act out his calls to arms, listen to his mindless propaganda, follow through with his psychotic messages, or even take this criminal lightly: you are objectively insane. You cannot claim that this man has a sane view of the future. You cannot claim that his morals and views can be allowed to thrive in this day and age."

He sighed and let a chuckle escape. "Can we talk about something better now? I'm getting worked up again."

The host laughed. "Actually, we're running out of time tonight. Is there anything else you want to let the viewers at home know?"

"Eat your prayers, stay in vitamins, don't do school, and say your drugs. Driscoll out!"

* * *

[V]

* * *

 **A/N: Quite a delay for this chapter, but for good reason: college decided to kick me around for a bit, and I also went through four different iterations of this chapter before finally deciding on this one. It was a struggle…**

 **So with this chapter, I decided to leave out the night of fun both Nathan and Sami decided on because it's gonna end up being pure fluff… that being said, would you guys want to see it? I don't want to post that on this story because of… rating reasons… but I can post it as its own story to keep the plot and fluff separate. Would you guys want that? Please let me know in the reviews.**

 **Thanks for being patient. Eat your school, say your vitamins, don't do prayers, and stay in drugs! Sheppard out!**


	7. 天

**—** **Chapter 7 —**  
 _"_ 天 _"_

* * *

[V]

* * *

僕の居場所は何処にも無いのに

「一緒に帰ろう」手を引かれてさ

知らない知らない僕は何も知らない君はもう子供じゃないことも慣れない他人（ひと）の手の温もりはただ本当に本当に本当に本当のことなんだやめないやめない君は何でやめない？見つかれば殺されちゃうくせに雨上がりに忌み子がふたり夕焼けの中に吸い込まれて消えてった

* * *

[V]

* * *

Wolf and Sheila were quite shocked when they walked into Vince's workstation. Not because he was in the same place they had left him yesterday, and knew with almost perfect certainty that he hadn't moved from that spot since then. No, they were shocked because Vince sat at his desk, immersed in whatever he was working on…

Without a lab coat.

The staple of his appearance was nowhere to be found. The iconic cloak as pure and white as he was did not sit over his shoulders. God, did he look so out of place and so weird without it. Wolf had no idea that the shirt he wore underneath that coat didn't have the slightest trace of sleeves. The fabric stopped at the tips of his shoulders, letting his thin, frail looking arms fly free. Was there a birthmark on his right bicep all this time?

"What happened to your coat?" Wolf abruptly asked, failing to let Vince know he was there. Startled, the fox bolted out of his seat, almost toppling over it in the process, but smiled and breathed a sigh of relief when his eyes refocused. Huh, his glasses were gone too…

"Okay, there's a bunch of funny stories with that," Vince started to ramble. Clearly he was tired and sleep-deprived from the way he haphazardly spoke. "The first coat I brought in, I spilled coffee on because dammit, I'm trying to stay awake while working. The second one actually fell victim to my prototyping, as I got a bit of fuel and fluids on it. The third one, I just took off. I needed the space."

"I never see you without one," Sheila remarked.

"But here's the good news," Vince interrupted. "I'm pretty much done with the Aparoid. Come, come look at what I did!"

Wolf and Sheila just laughed at each other as they followed Vince to his messy desk. To the married couple, the images, walls of incoherently mushed together clumps of text, and the scattered sheets of paper looked like the workings of someone with a few screws loose, but to Vince, it was a pure masterpiece.

"So the drones can run on these strings of code," he pointed at his screens. "They're entirely autonomous, with a few strings of user-based control if components begin to fall though, so it's just like an emergency piloting feature I—"

"Vince, nobody understands what you're talking about," Wolf interrupted with a smirk. "Calm down, slow down, and explain where you can."

The arctic fox took a long breath. "Okay. Okay, I can do this…" Shortly after, he abruptly slapped his forehead once he stood in front of his work. "Gah, I knew I was forgetting something. Sheila, dear, can you do me a _huge_ favor?"

Sheila cocked her head, but smiled. "Sure. What's up?"

"These documents don't do me any good sitting out here," Vince explained, pushing sheets of paper aside. "I need to send them to the database architects so that they can implement them fully. There should be an old scanner in the supply closet just down the hall. Can you get that for me?"

"Of course," she said happily. "I'll be right back."

"Thanks," Vince managed to reply before the explosion of hair rounded the corner. "Okay, so, Wolf," he started. "I need your opinion on something."

"Yea," the lupine grunted.

"I'm trying to _design_ the autonomous drones," he explained. "All the code is down, but I need something physical to use that code. I want to use the same structure and functionality as the old Arwings, but in prototyping these things, their low-speed maneuverability is almost nonexistent. I'm not the piloting genius here, so I want to know how you propose we tweak the design to fix this problem."

"That's a good question," Wolf said to himself, scratching the underside of his muzzle. "A while back, Wes and I were discussing that same thing. Engineers in our test facility proposed inverting the wings, y'know, to have the point facing out instead of moving with the shape of the craft. Supposedly that improved maneuverability, but absolutely killed its top speeds and fuel efficiency."

"I don't need speed," Vince mumbled. "But the fuel issue is worth noting… if these drones are going on deep reconnaissance, which I want them to do, they're gonna need something to counter that…"

Wolf folded his arms. "Well, what about creating a—"

Wolf got cut off by an abrupt shriek that tore through the hallways. Sheila. Almost instantaneously, as soon as his brain registered her voice behind that wail, Wolf barreled through the doorway and sped down the hall so quickly that he almost slipped when leaving Vince's office. It took him mere seconds to get down to where the husky was, and he wasted no time in grabbing her to hold her close.

"Sheila, what's wrong?" he questioned, immediately noticing her lack of color in her face. Her eyes refused to move from the open closet door. Wolf made the mistake of looking inside.

A poor cross fox sat slumped over in the corner, an open gash torn across his neck. A pool of crimson rested below him. Open, unresponsive eyes stared back at the couple, begging for help.

"Shit," Wolf cursed, pushing Sheila back towards the opposite wall. "Stay here, okay?"

"What happened?" Vince cried.

"The mole is cutting away liabilities," Wolf growled.

Vince's eyes shot open wide when he saw. "Oh… oh god…" he murmured, immediately feeling sick.

Soldiers and personnel alike flocked to the scene in a matter of minutes. It took that short amount of time to attract General Yeager to the area, who immediately met Wolf at the doorway of the closet. Doctors were quick to enter and check on the fox, but there was nothing they could do for him. He was too far gone.

"We're missing a key part of this," Wes muttered.

"Who was he?" asked Wolf.

"Trent Yannick, an IT worker," Wes answered. "He would have had access to the databases we are trying to monitor, according to Vince. Stazac! Stazac, come here."

Vince awkwardly walked up. "Y-yes, sir?"

"Did you know him?" Wes asked, pointing to the body the doctors had just covered up.

"N-n-no, sir," Vince stuttered. "I-I didn't."

"He would have been in your department, no?"

"No, sir," Vince coughed. "He was in finances, sir. He had nothing to do with classified intel."

"But that's all on the same secure server."

"Well, yes, but if you're implying that whoever this mole is had anything to gain by killing him, then… I'm sorry, sir, but that's just not true. It doesn't make any sense. Trent doesn't work in intel."

"It's definitely a homicide," Wolf piped in. "Definitely with ill intentions if he went to these lengths… Obviously this guy knew something that our little friend didn't want him knowing."

"Stazac," Wes broke in. "Did you talk to him at all in the past day or so?"

"Yes," he whimpered. "He was one of the people I reset login information to. He came to me asking for the new login because he needed to check on finances."

Wes breathed. "Who else asked for the login?"

"Nobody; Trent reminded me that I needed to send out everyone's. I wanted to give them out as soon as possible, but working on my projects must've made me forget."

"Okay, who all is in the system? Better yet, who all did you reset?"

"Everybody; I wasn't taking any precaution," Vince answered. "Everyone in system architecture, everyone in my department, IT department, the senate leaders, and the CDF Officers. Basically anyone who has a major say in how that system runs or who has a major chunk of that server."

"How did you get their new information to them?"

"I tested out my new Aparoid code," Vince replied with a bit of pride spilling through his teeth. "The messages I sent cannot be tracked, even though they went through the server that this mole may have access to. And—get this—I can trace malicious activity by the user without them knowing. It's a spyware bot tied to the new login credentials. Even Venom would be proud of that code."

Wes didn't buy it. "So you gave a new login code to the mole?"

"Sir, we don't know who this mole is, but we do have it narrowed down to one of these users," Vince pleaded. "I can track this guy down, I just need time. I need to wait for this guy to make another move."

"And what happens if another one of ours gets taken out?" Wes firmly asked, glancing at the covered body.

"I'm working as much as I can, sir," Vince wheezed. "I'm trying, I promise. I want to find answers just as much as you do."

Wes sighed. "Very well. Keep working, Stazac. I'll check in with you whenever I can. Wolf, if you don't mind me asking, I—"

"Wait," Wolf interrupted, transmitter to his face. "Wait, what? Slow down, what's happening?"

"O'Donnell," Wes huffed.

"I said slow down!" Wolf growled into the receiver. "What is happening? Tell me what's—"

Wolf's transmitter suddenly screeched with such a high frequency that everyone within earshot flinched, including General Jeager. Wolf tore the device from his wrist and tossed it away, only stopping the god-awful sound when it hit the floor.

"What the hell was that?" Wes barked.

Wolf rubbed at his head to get the ringing out of his ears. Scared, Sheila clung beside him, wondering the same exact thing.

"Wolf?" Sheila whimpered. "Baby, what's going on?"

"I don't know," was all Wolf could say. "I was trying to talk to Commander Brackis over in Chicago, but… something was wrong. He was just screaming at me. Then that happened."

Wes shook his head. "Why?"

"I don't know, Wes," Wolf retorted. "He didn't tell me anything."

"Son of a bitch," growled Wes. "Somebody get me a call to the Chicago base, now!"

* * *

[VΔV]

* * *

A bitter wind swept in, snaking thin snow drifts along the sidewalks three stories below.

On the roof of the embassy sat the Cornerian transport vessel with Sami's name metaphorically written on it. He had already loaded his belongings into the back of the vessel, just as the four other civilians heading back home with him. Once the back sealed shut, the engines roared to life, kicking up even more wind and snow in its wake. While they waited for the systems to boot up, Sami trudged back to Nathan; fighting back tears with every fiber of his being.

"You're not making this easy on either of us," Nathan forced a smile.

"I know," Sami sniffed. "I just hate to leave you."

"I'll be back home as soon as I can," Nathan assured for the umpteenth time. "Don't worry about me, okay? I'll be just fine."

"I sure hope so," Sami nodded. "One last time?"

Nathan held out his arms, but was surprised when the canine grabbed his face and forced him into a kiss. With no regard to anyone who might've been watching, Nathan returned the love by holding onto Sami as tight as his arms would let him. It was their last moment of bliss for quite some time, so they made sure to make the most of every short second they were allowed.

Once Sami peeled back, he hoarsely gasped, "I love you," with tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I love you too Sami," Nathan finally let a few tears go. "Please be safe."

"I really should tell that to you," Sami responded. "But I will. Promise me you will too?"

"Of course," Nathan smiled back.

Sami shuffled his feet, taking a reluctant step backwards. "Well… this is goodbye for now…"

"For now," Nathan winked. "I'll see you again sooner than you'll know it."

Sami grinned. "I'd like that very much."

With that, Sami backed away and begrudgingly climbed aboard. Nathan waved goodbye, but couldn't bring himself to leave. Even behind the glass and the layer of blowing flurries, Sami's eyes stood out like two lighthouse beacons in a dense layer of morning fog. As much as Nathan wanted to say that Sami had more control and voice in what they did, he couldn't shake the fact that Sami looked lost already. They hadn't been apart quite like this, and both knew it.

Powering through the guilt and pain of separation, Nathan finally allowed himself to leave the rooftop. Descending the flight of stairs to get to the ground floor was emotionally taxing as it was physically draining. With each step, Nathan felt as though the light in his mind and the heat in his heart slowly began to dim and fade as a candle in the windowsill on a cold, windy day like today. By the time Nathan's boots hit the concrete foundation, he felt like a shell of himself. Not only was Sami leaving, he was taking Nathan with him.

He didn't want to admit it, but Sami really did control how he felt at any given time. He really was the emotional rock that Nathan could go to at any time to vent, breathe, or just have a conversation with someone he could spill anything to. Not having that was extremely disheartening for the elder O'Donnell. He really needed that emotional stability, especially in a hostile place like this.

He could feel the heavy laces of depression coil around him already, and Sami hadn't even taken off yet. He wanted to thing better of it. He wanted to tell himself that it was for a greater good; that he needed this time away to focus on his profession and train his heart to take the emotional pain this was sure to inflict on him. He wanted to think there was a good purpose for this. But all he got was an empty candle, the flame long since extinguished. It hurt.

Still, Nathan tried to keep his chin up. Though his tail and ears sagged, and his eyes seemed lifeless and hollow, he tried to make the best of it. He thought of the positives. The benefits of this. But they were heavily outweighed by the multitude of burdening emotional turmoils this event had already started to manifest into Nathan's broken body. He didn't even want to accept this as reality; like it was all some sick dream and he was just waiting for himself to wake up from it.

Nevertheless, with a negative aura and a broken heart, he immediately slipped outside into the side parking lot to watch for Sami's vessel to lift off. Concerned, both Flannery and Vixie went out to meet him and console him.

"Hey, buddy, look at the bright side," Flannery started. "He's safe. You won't have to worry about him here. At least you know he'll be okay back home."

"I know…" Nathan whimpered. "I'll still miss him."

"You still have us," Vixie piped in, gently sliding in and giving Nathan a warm, yet weak hug.

"True," he commented, but paused as he just gazed into the sky. "It just won't be the same without him."

The gust of flurries expelled from the top of the embassy signaled the takeoff of the transport. Cautiously, the large vessel rose higher and higher, now wanting to start moving until it was clear of the basin of skyscrapers. The worst thing about all of it was that Nathan was relegated to merely watching as his best friend, partner, and life slowly drifted away.

He blinked.

Half of the transport lit up in an orange burst of pure heat and energy; the blast of sound pushing the three Cornerians back. The right engine jutting off the base of the transport had been cleanly severed off, plummeting back to the ground in a fireball. It impacted the top of the embassy, detonating the entire top floor in a wild explosion that scattered bricks and shrapnel as if an overweight person had just jumped into a swimming pool. Nathan's eyes went wide, but in that split second, he reacted.

 _"_ _Shield!"_

In one motion, Nathan slipped in front of the girls with his forearm raised. His transmitter shot out a beam of pure energy, immediately materializing into a green plasma riot shield that deflected the avalanche of shrapnel launched at them. Nathan's other arm snatched Vixie up by her collar, pulling her behind the barrier just as she was about to get hit by the debris. With flaming steel and burning fuel raining down, Nathan pushed the girls back into an alleyway across from the exploding embassy, ducking behind a dumpster to avoid getting hit.

The injured transport desperately tried to stay in control, but all it accomplished was wildly spiraling out of control. The overcompensating left engine forced it to take a hard right, unceremoniously sailing into the nearest skyscraper with a whitewash of fire and shattered glass ensuing. That engine consequently blew upon impact, ripping a massive hole five stories tall into the structure.

The remains of the transport barreled into the highway below, tearing up the asphalt and cars that were caught in its wake. It only stopped when it slammed into the overpass, the force strong enough to split the bridge in half and send it crumbling in a pile, completely barricading the eight-lane highway.

An eerie silence ensued after the cascade of broken glass subsided. People were too shocked and stunned to even scream. Smoke billowed up from the smoldered remains of the disabled transport, the giant hole in the skyscraper it had crashed into, and the ruins of the embassy building that had just had a metaphorical bomb dropped on it. Dazed, Nathan poked out of the alleyway to survey the situation. He had no words. Nothing coherent came to mind.

"Vixie," Flannery gasped, scooting up to the hunched vixen. The entirety of her right arm was dyed crimson, a gash across her forearm staining her uniform and her once pristine white fur. "Vix, just—"

The quiet was not for long. Soon, a god-awful screeching roared through the streets as the damaged skyscraper began to buckle. Nathan looked up at the building only for his eyes to go wide at the sight of giant glass panes being strained and shattered. The top half of the tall building succumbed to the damage and began to tear open like someone ripping a piece of bread in half. With no indication of stopping, the building toppled into its wound; sheet metal, broken glass, and concrete spilling out as it crumbled. Nathan swore loudly and ducked back into the alley. In one gracefully fucked-up motion, the crippled building slammed to the ground in a heap, shaking the earth as if an earthquake had just hit the city. The building within a two-block radius felt the brunt of the sheer impact; windows shattered and loose materials fell from the sky. Nathan and the girls were thrown from their feet.

From the cloud of debris, fire, and smoke arose a helicopter that sat idle over the chaos before descending to the mangled highway next to the destroyed embassy building. While the blades were simmering down, a handful of heavy trucks and cars alike knifed in to block off the only road on the corner that wasn't obstructed by copious amounts of debris. The occupants, all armed with gas masks, shields, assault rifles, and ballistic armor, exited the entourage of vehicles and formed up. Without notice, they began to spray the area, making sure that whoever had miraculously survived the avalanche of destruction didn't have a second miracle.

Upon hearing the barrage of gunfire, Nathan urged the girls deeper into the alleyway in an attempt to flee the area, but noticed two things terribly wrong. His right leg didn't feel right. He tried to stand, but his right ankle buckled as if it wasn't even attached. Warm blood began to stain his uniform. The other thing was that he noticed Vixie's gash, apparent with the similar color spilling through her fingers. He swore again.

Flannery tried to help Nathan to his feet, but he pushed her away. "Help Vix," he snapped.

"Vixie can walk, you can't," Flannery retorted. "Give me your hand, I'll help you."

Nathan didn't have a choice as Flannery pulled him up, sliding under Nathan's arm to stabilize his injured leg. As fast as they could manage, they fled the alleyway down the other side, escaping the carnage. They didn't look back.

Already confused and distraught with their transport exploding, the stationed Cornerians didn't stand a chance to the small army of assailants gunning them down. Tactics of defense were thrown out the window, and self-defense fell apart as the armed Cornerians fell one-by-one to the onslaught of well-prepared, coordinated attackers. The gunfire exchange between the trove of attackers and the remnants of the Cornerian base lasted all of two minutes. There was a clear winner and a clear loser.

Conners exited the idle helicopter and surveyed his handiwork. Wide eyes combed over his surroundings: the collapsed skyscraper, the flaming ruins of the transport vessel, and the Cornerian soldiers facing the floor or staring into the dust-filled overcast. A sinister chuckle echoed throughout the silenced city.

"You broken dogs think that a little building here can justify your existence…" he started calmly, laughing in his wake. "Gods don't build buildings; man does. And what man does best is that he can take back his property if he feels that his guest has wronged him."

Conners knelt down to a slain soldier and yelled into his lifeless face. "You broken dogs wronged us tens of thousands of innocent, beautiful lives! You are the killers! We exacted revenge! The gods won't allow us to let their lives be wrongly taken away…"

"You called this city home!" he suddenly barked, staring up into the cloud of dust. "This city adopted you because it thought… you were worth more than you are. This city took a bet on a bunch of nobody, blood-lusted killers in hopes that it would achieve a greater good for all of creation. Your naïve, blind ignorance has led you astray from the values that make you human. You people tried to alter your own reality to accommodate for a group of savage killers, and tried to assimilate them as if they were one of your own!"

Seething, Conners snarled, "Now look what has happened to your beautiful city! Justified destruction has claimed another victim! Your selective ignorance has led you astray, and the gods punish you for turning your back on your own people! Sodom and Gomorrah had burning sulfur rained down upon it because the people there were selfish, foolish, subhuman false prophets that claimed to be better than the gods above them! They tried to play god, and look what they got! You are no different than the false prophets! You CANNOT PLAY GOD!"

Conners fell to one knee, hands surveying the rubble at his feet. He chuckled. "Bricks and mortar are man's tools for creation… the gods, the gods use life! The essence of the universe! Creation is what they do best! Our meaningless structures are just that… meaningless… in the eyes of the true beholder. They frame economic greed over the wellbeing of those who sleep at the foot of these giant structures. Instead of helping those who have a right to live and live well, you destroy their hopes and bring in savage creatures that are better off where they came from. The lives lost today are on your hands, you subhuman scum of the earth."

He looked up to the sky with a wide smile. "Chicago, famed for its architecture! Wouldn't it be funny if what gathered its fame suddenly meant nothing… Wouldn't it be such a reality check to finally realize that the people—your own people—matter more than your buildings… The gods created man over the materials we have dominion on, yet we prize our infrastructure more than our brothers and sisters… It's a shame to think we'll first cry out in outrage of the destruction and the economic toll it has… and then step back to see how many of us were slain… how many of those lives we could have saved had we not burdened ourselves with these broken dogs…"

He looked over at the bodies strewn about. "The dogs of a broken civilization have already manipulated us, urged us to care about them just like these meaningless structures… because they claimed it was the right thing to…" his voice began to fluctuate from yelling to seemingly talking to himself. "The right thing to do…" Again, he chuckled. "Yet, the moment you tell these false advocates that the true potential sleeps at the feet of your bank towers, forgotten by everyone but the gods that justify their existence, they are quick to apologetics. They ignore the truth that sleeps beneath them, and brings in lies, deceit, and carnage. They insist it is the right thing… Something they won't tell you is that the right thing to do is to say SCREW THEM!"

Conners leapt to his feet. "To HELL with the broken dogs and their ideals! We are human! We have our say in our world! If we want to revolt, WE'LL SURE AS HELL REVOLT! To hell with your pathetic, false reasoning! To hell with your feelings of remorse and guilt for the wrong creation! To hell with everything positive you may feel for these broken dogs! They are NOT US! If you cannot see this, then… we will make you."

He let his eyes drop. Laughing to himself, he stared for a few seconds before letting his wild, deranged eyes survey the damage once more. His voice calmed once more, like the waves long after a vicious storm. Staring into the wide, lifeless eyes of a Cornerian by his side, Conners began to breathe softly.

"Dreaming is one of my favorite things to do…" he quietly explained to the corpse, completely forgoing his earlier tirade. "Mine are often extremely vivid. You dogs… do you dogs dream just as we do? Or is your existence reflective of your nonexistent, irrelevant dreams?"

Conners began stroking the dead canine's fur.

"We often say that real life is real and dreams aren't," he continued. "That the two are separate and incompatible with each other… Whoever came up with this reasoning obviously has never dreamed like I have. Real life and dreams… What's the difference? Both states of consciousness rely on the mind's perception of what is real."

He gently closed the canine's eyes.

"Sometimes I make less distinction between what was only possible when I was asleep, and what's possible now that I'm awake. To someone who dreams as much as I do, the distinction is not there."

Conners laughed to himself. "I never stop thinking… maybe that's why I dream so much. When I sleep, my mind doesn't. It tries to think without me… ironically… as if it has a mind of its own. The mind tries to make out broken signals lost at the end of the day… it creates a story out of it. The stories are as real as you and I. They are truth… which is why I do not distinguish that which I see in my dreams and that which I see now… There is no difference between the two… other than you broken dogs are still here."

Conners grabbed the corpse's limp wrist to peel the transmitter away. "We will continue our crusade, my friend," he continued, examining the device. "Since you do not choose to leave by your own accord, you have left my brothers and sisters in arms with no other choice… Your technology… that which you praise and live by… shall be turned against you. You claim to have the advantage with these… but how I yearn to see you fail once the playing field is even…"

He watched as HC and Nixon did the same, with the former covering his forearm in four different transmitter wristlets. His followers behind him soon followed suit.

Sirens began to sound.

Conners laughed. "I do love the song of fear… My family, we have work to do. Places to see. A revolution to follow through. You all know where to be."

Sanity's main trio exited in their helicopter while the men on the ground slowly but surely dispersed…

* * *

[VΔV]

* * *

They stole a car. They didn't want to, but given their situation, it was the only way out.

Nathan sat in the back seat to help Vixie bandage her nasty wound. By the time he was done, both were very nearly covered in blood, but at least Vixie was patched up for now. Nathan wrapped up his ankle as well, but he was certain than something was broken. Bruised, beaten up, and hunted, Flannery drove the trio away with no clear destination in sight.

Silence dominated the ride. None were coherent enough to form an interpretation of what they had just saw, nor did they even attempt to connect dots. Cognitive dissonance was so strong with all three that they refused to speak even a single word. Shock broke their brains so bad that thoughts were shattered, fragmented pieces of tainted visuals and heartbreak. Heartbreak.

"Are you okay, Vixie?" Flannery abruptly asked.

"I'm fine," she unconvincingly replied.

"Nate?" the wolf-ess followed up.

He didn't reply.

"Nate, you okay?"

Still no answer.

Flannery just rolled her eyes. "Where are we going? We need to get as far away from this place as possible."

"Why not back home?" Vixie asked.

Flannery scoffed. "No. Going back there is just asking for us to get killed. There's something wrong, and I'm not taking any chances."

"W-why?"

"Did you not see what just happened?" snapped Flannery. "Right now, I'm paranoid as shit, okay? I am not going anywhere that anyone might know of."

Vixie's ears flattened. "Then what do we do?"

"I wish I knew," Flannery grumbled. "Anywhere but here. Anywhere."

A few moments passed. As if answering their plea for help, Nathan's transmitter began to buzz. Both girls looked to see it ringing, but Nate sat like a stone and refused to even look at the screen.

"Nate," Vixie implored. "Who is it?"

Nathan's blank gaze cut through the empty passenger's headrest.

Vixie reached over and answered it for him. As soon as it opened, Flannery yipped, "Who is it?"

"Nathan?" an urgent male voice replied. "It's Anthony; Sami's teammate. What happened? I just heard on the news that your embassy got attacked, and I can't reach Sami's number. Are you guys okay?"

"We're far from okay," Flannery deadpanned.

"Who is this?" asked Anthony.

"It's Flannery, Nathan's sister," she replied, disgruntled. "Listen, we're all sorts of fucked up right now. Now really isn't the time to be asking questions."

"I, I'm sorry," Anthony stammered. "I just wanted to know if you guys were okay. Do you guys need help?"

"A lot of it," Flannery snipped.

"Listen, Anthony, we're in rough shape," Vixie interjected. "Both Nate and I are hurt, and we're afraid to go back home."

"I'll send you my address," Anthony said without any hesitation. "Myself and a couple of our teammates live in Arlington; about a half an hour north-west from Chicago. If you can, drive up here and we'll take care of you."

"Thank you so much," Vixie breathed. "We'll be there right away."

"Stay safe you guys," Anthony reminded before the call was dropped.

Vixie looked up to the front seat. "Flan—"

"I'm already on it," she grunted. "We'll be there in no time."

The vixen soon directed her attention to Nathan, who still hadn't moved or said a word since she finished bandaging her wound.

The poor thing looked lost…

* * *

[V]

* * *

天

"Heaven"

* * *

[V]

* * *

 _There's no place in the world where I could belong, and yet…_

 _"_ _Let's leave together…" and you led me away._

 _I don't know, I don't know, I don't know a thing, not even that you're not a child anymore. And the warmth of a stranger's hand; that's really, really, really the only real thing. You won't stop, you won't stop; why is it you won't stop? If you're found out, you know you'll be killed. After the rain, there stood two forsaken, to be sucked up by the sunset and to vanish into air._

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Dealing with the last couple weeks of the semester, and dealing with persistent bouts of depression kinda killed my writing inspiration. Hopefully that will be on the upswing in the near future. I'm almost done with my first year of college, so here's hoping once I'm out, I can pick up writing more frequently. With that being said, I hope you all enjoy, and please feel free to leave your thoughts in the reviews.**

 **Here's something to look forward to: The first boss battle of the story will be next chapter! :D**

 **-Sheppard**


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